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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27001597">Age of Consent</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beautiful_Ruin/pseuds/Lexus'>Lexus (Beautiful_Ruin)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Killing Eve (TV 2018)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Eve is the new history teacher, Eventual Smut, F/F, Konstantin is the principal and is her uncle, Oksana is a brat, Teacher/Student, but if that bothers you then consider it underage, it's not underage because the aoc in Russia is 16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 00:46:54</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>24,615</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27001597</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beautiful_Ruin/pseuds/Lexus</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Eve is the new history teacher at Oksana's school. Do I need to say more than that?</p><p>follow me on twitter @lexus_grey</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Eve Polastri/Villanelle | Oksana Astankova</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>187</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>309</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Buckle up. I've been planning this for a long time but didn't have time to start it before now.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Maybe going to a bar the night before starting her new teaching job isn’t the best idea, but it’s the only idea she’s got, so Eve Polastri is going with it. Her marriage is shit, she hates her house, and the only good thing about this job is that she gets to be away from her house and away from her husband for nine months out of the year, give or take holidays and vacations. So to be honest, she deserves a night out at the bar. And she’s taking it. Taking what she deserves.</p><p>She tosses back her third shot of tequila, which she never drinks but tonight is all about newness, and leans back on her barstool in an attempt to keep the countertop from meeting her forehead. It’s this leaning back that brings something to her attention – or rather, someone. A hot, hot young woman up in the VIP area that looks maybe twenty-one or twenty-two... twenty-three at most, which is still too young for Eve’s thirty-five but there’s no harm in looking.</p><p>They make eye contact for the briefest of seconds and Eve catches the smirk on the young woman’s face as her own gaze sweeps past and lands elsewhere.</p><p>Not five seconds later she sees movement from above and when she turns back to the VIP area, the young woman is all over a lanky brunette.</p><p>Eve watches for a minute and gives a wry smile, draining another tequila shot. Bottoms up, bitches.</p><p>She goes home drunk and masturbates thinking about the hottie from VIP. It’s a good orgasm as orgasms go. And then she’s asleep.</p><p>***</p><p>Hangovers have never been Eve’s friends. Especially not on work mornings. Especially especially not on her first day of her new job. She pops a handful of Advil and showers and takes her time with her hair and makeup to overcompensate. Hair, makeup, and perfume, actually. So by the time she leaves her apartment, she actually looks and smells pretty good and her headache is background noise.</p><p>Her first day is awesome. The students are excited because they all hated the teacher she’s replaced, so she’s ahead of the game already, and then they like her because her teaching style is different than they’re used to. She likes to make it fun.</p><p>There’s a problem in last period. She watches in horror as the woman from the bar – the <em>girl</em> from the bar – walks past her and takes a seat in the front row.</p><p>When their eyes lock, both sets go wide.</p><p><em>Fuck</em>.</p><p>***</p><p>This isn’t a problem. Right? No. No problem. Oksana has dealt with far worse than this. This is just a teacher, a new teacher, who knows she has a fake ID. This teacher probably doesn’t even care. AND, this teacher was <em>definitely</em> checking her out at the bar.</p><p>She decides she will have some fun. The teacher is really hot, anyway.</p><p>About halfway through class, she raises her hand, and when she’s called on, she smiles with dimples and all. “Ms. Polastri—”</p><p>“Mrs. Polastri,” the teacher interrupts.</p><p>Oksana tries to look embarrassed. “Oops. <em>Mrs</em>. Polastri, if we misbehave, are you going to spank us?”</p><p>Eve is dead.</p><p>Dead.</p><p>Dead.</p><p><em>Be cool</em>, she tells herself. <em>Don’t let the girl see it bothers you. Say something witty</em>.</p><p>She forces up an eyebrow. “Misbehave? You mean like... using a fake ID to get into a bar?”</p><p>“Of course not,” the girl answers back. “How would you know if any of us did that unless you were in a bar too?”</p><p>“I’m thirty-five years old. I’m allowed to be in a bar.”</p><p>“You didn’t answer my question.”</p><p>“Because it was a ridiculous question.”</p><p>“Teachers really shouldn’t tell their students that a question is ridiculous. It might make them afraid to learn.”</p><p>Eve smirks, but it covers rattling nerves. “No, of course I will not be doing that,” she says, shaking her head. “Does anyone have any real questions?” She tries to move on.</p><p>“Uh! It was a real question,” the girl persists.</p><p>Eve can feel her headache returning. She glances at the chart she’d made while taking roll because she can’t remember the girl’s name. “Oksana, please let’s move on,” she says. Oksana. Why did Oksana have to be in that particular bar last night looking like an adult? It’s playing tricks on her mind.</p><p>Okay, that’s an exaggeration. But it’s difficult to reconcile this immature little girl with the young woman she’d seen last night. She obviously needs to just forget she ever saw the girl outside of class.</p><p>Oksana does <em>not</em> like being brushed off. In fact, it makes her hair stand on end. This teacher... Mrs. Polastri... had better fall in line, because Oksana Astankova can make her life very uncomfortable with a minimal amount of effort. “But you said it wasn’t a real question,” she almost whines. “That hurts my feelings.”</p><p>She watches the teacher try to figure out what to do with her. “Of course I don’t want to hurt your feelings,” Mrs. Polastri says, and Oksana can’t quite tell if that’s genuine or not, so she lets it go. “Can we please move on to any other questions?”</p><p>Oksana raises her hand again and doesn’t miss the exasperated furrow of the teacher’s brow.</p><p>“Yes, Oksana?” There’s an exasperated edge to her voice as well.</p><p>“So what <em>will</em> you do if we misbehave? Since you’re not going to spank us like the last history teacher,” she lies.</p><p>Eve needs to put a stop to this, quickly. “That must be why he was fired,” she shoots at the impertinent little thing. “If you want to disrupt my class further I’d be happy to provide you with an office referral.”</p><p>“Thanks but no thanks,” Oksana mutters, annoyed at being cockblocked so quickly with threats of being sent to the office.</p><p>Eve resists the grin that wants to burst forth at her tentative success. “Now, if we—” Oh for fuck’s sake! “<em>Yes</em>, Oksana?”</p><p>“I need to use the restroom.”</p><p>“School is over in twenty minutes, you can use it then.”</p><p>“I’ve got things to do after school!” Oksana bristles, eyes going a bit wide. Teachers do not usually tell her she can’t go to the restroom.</p><p>“Then I guess you should have gone between classes,” Eve says, raising an eyebrow. <em>Or not been such an insufferable wretch in my class</em>, she adds mentally. “We’re going to go around the room now and say our favorite historical figure and why. Devon, let’s start with you,” she says after glancing at the seating chart again.</p><p>Oksana is seething. Seething, seething, seething. Nope. She’s not going to put up with it, she decides right here and now. She stands and walks to the door, leaving out and going to use the restroom anyway.</p><p>Eve watches her go without any fanfare and turns back to the group. “Devon. Favorite historical figure and why.”</p><p>“Napoleon, because he was small but effective.”</p><p>Eve laughs as she writes out an office referral for Oksana. “Nice.” Seating chart. “Isabella?”</p><p>***</p><p>“Bill.”</p><p>He doesn’t stop laughing.</p><p>“Bill! It’s not funny! I’m about to shut the computer.”</p><p>She’s just finished telling him about Oksana and the bar and the class, and can’t for the life of her figure out why he finds it funny.</p><p>“Sorry! Sorry!” he says while still laughing. “It’s just... only you, Eve. This would only happen to you.” He brings himself under control, finally, and wipes his eyes. “Ohhhhh, Eve.”</p><p>“God, you’re my shittiest friend.”</p><p>“I’m your only friend.”</p><p>“Uh, no. Elena counts.”</p><p>“Well of course I’m the shittiest if it’s between me and Elena,” Bill protests. “She’s perfect.”</p><p>“Yeah. I should have Zoomed her instead. Regretting my decision.”</p><p>“Come on, Eve. At least tell me you can see the irony.”</p><p>“Obviously. But that doesn’t make it funny.”</p><p>“So she’s cute?”</p><p>“Hey! Hey! She’s sixteen!”</p><p>“At the bar, I meant!” he most likely lies. He’s always been a terrible influence. “She was cute at the bar?”</p><p>“Bill! She’s sixteen fucking years old!”</p><p>“But before you knew how old she was, she was cute?”</p><p>Oh for fuck’s sake. “Fine. Yeah. But now she’s not.”</p><p>“You should look up consent laws over there.”</p><p>“I’m not doing that.”</p><p>***</p><p>Oksana skips happily into history class and skids to a stop when she sees something on her desk, her eyes widening in surprise and then narrowing in anger as she picks up the office referral slip. She takes a breath before spinning to face the teacher, who looks—Oksana really wants to say she looks stupid, but she doesn’t. At all. She looks so mouth-wateringly hot in fitted slacks and a pressed white oxford under a fitted jacket. Fuck.</p><p>She sucks the inside of her cheeks between her teeth and tries to remember that she’s been given a referral and is angry. Because looking at her teacher right now, it’s hard to feel angry. She wants to bury her face in Mrs. Polastri’s wild curls and just—no. No. She’s angry.</p><p>She stalks up to the front of the room and half slams the note down in front of Mrs. Polastri. “What the hell is this?”</p><p>Eve sits up straighter. “Watch your language or there’ll be another one along with it. It’s an office referral, obviously.”</p><p>“What’s it <em>for</em>?” Oksana asks as if the teacher is stupid.</p><p>“You can read it on your way to the office,” Eve says. “Get out of my classroom.”</p><p>Oksana is so flustered that she laughs. She just... laughs. For an awkward amount of time. And other students are coming in now. “You can’t give me an office referral for taking a piss,” she says, sliding the paper across the desk, watching it come to rest just shy of touching the teacher’s arm.</p><p>Eve gets out the referral pad and starts writing another.</p><p>Oksana’s eyes widen again. Her heart is racing. “Do you not know who my uncle is? Watch me tell him about this.”</p><p>Eve finishes the referral and slides it across the desk along with the first one. She looks directly at the insolent girl and keeps any expression off of her face. “Watch me not care.”</p><p>Oksana is furious now, especially when she sees both the “office” and “detention” boxes checked on the second referral. “Detention?” she practically squeaks, hating the weakness in her voice. “Are you insane?!”</p><p>Rather than have a shouting match, Eve picks up her desk phone and dials the office. “This is Eve Polastri in 207. I’m having difficulty with a student refusing to go to the office; could you please send someone to retrieve her?”</p><p>Oksana’s stomach tries to drop out of her body. “I’m going!” she says in a rush, picks up both referrals and stalks out the door. What a fucking bitch.</p><p>Eve hangs up the phone and waits for the bell to ring, then starts class.</p><p>***</p><p>Oksana sits swinging her feet with her ankles crossed, waiting to be called into her uncle’s office. The other teachers, the good ones, they never send her to the principal because they know he’s her uncle. So she gets away with things and he never has to find out about them. Then she doesn’t lose her credit cards or her car or her weekly cash allowance out of her inheritance. She stays comfortable.</p><p>Why doesn’t Mrs. Polastri know that the principal is her uncle? She’s really going to have to fix this. So when she’s finally called in, she just peeks her head around the doorframe and smiles. “Hi, Uncle. It’s just a misunderstanding, okay?” She starts to leave, expecting him to just go with it.</p><p>“Oksana.”</p><p>Her name freezes her in her tracks.</p><p>“Come sit. Close the door.”</p><p>Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.</p><p>She closes the door and sits across from his desk. “I really should get back to class, I—”</p><p>“Give me the slips.” He holds out his hand.</p><p>She feels the situation sliding out of her grasp along with the slips as she gives them over.</p><p>He reads them and raises an eyebrow at her. “What is the rule? The one rule we have?”</p><p>She stares at the carpeted floor. “Be respectful.”</p><p>He shakes the slips, and while she can’t see it because she’s looking at the floor, she hears the paper rustle and knows he’s doing it. “Is this respectful, Oksana?”</p><p>She looks up at him with what she hopes is an innocent enough expression. “It is just because she is new and does not know—”</p><p>“Does not know we are related?” Konstantin finishes for her, and she hates it when he does that.</p><p>“Well—”</p><p>“No cash, no credit cards, no car. One week. Give me your cards and money and keys.”</p><p>“But she—”</p><p>“Ten days.” He holds out his hand and beckons the items with his fingers.</p><p>She might literally explode. She is <em>so</em> angry. But she does not keep trying to argue with her uncle, because he will keep adding days and days and days until she will have to sell her car and cut up her credit cards and burn her inheritance, she knows.</p><p>She empties her cards and cash from her wallet in a very messy way onto his desk just to be a dick, then hands him her keys politely. “How am I supposed to get home with no bus money?”</p><p>“You have detention, yes?”</p><p>She scowls.</p><p>“After detention, I will take you home.”</p><p>“Can’t wait,” she says, rolling her eyes, and she is going to <em>torture</em> Mrs. Polastri when she gets back to class.</p><p>***</p><p>Oksana returns five minutes before the bell and Eve notes with satisfaction that she doesn’t disrupt the class, just quietly takes her seat. Everyone else is writing a short piece on the favorite historical character they’d chosen the day before. Oksana doesn’t have time to do the assignment before class ends, so she can do it in detention.</p><p>The longer she sits there (it’s almost been thirty seconds since she sat down and the teacher has not acknowledged her) the angrier she gets, and about fifteen seconds after that, she shoots her hand up and doesn’t wait to be called on before she blurts in her best haughty tone, “I hope you realize that the principal is my uncle, and he’s not very happy with you for sending me to the office.”</p><p>Eve discreetly checks her phone and keeps the smirk at bay as she looks back to Oksana. “Are you sure it’s not you who’s unhappy at losing your money and your car for ten days?”</p><p>Oksana’s stomach plummets. How could Mrs. Polastri possibly know that unless—oh. <em>Oh</em>. She puts two and two together now, because her uncle has a friend called Eve, and when Mrs. Polastri had spoken to the office secretary, she had said her name was Eve...</p><p>Fuck. <em>Fuck</em>! She is going to have to behave extra carefully now because if Mrs. Polastri is friends with her uncle and knows about her fake ID... God. She imagines her entire nightlife crumbling to dust around her and it is terrible. Just the thought makes her shudder; the thought that she could lose her hard-earned ID and her nights of drunken debauchery if Mrs. Polastri tattles to Uncle Konstantin.</p><p>This is so very, very bad. Oksana does not think she has ever been quite so fucked in the most unpleasurable sense of the word.</p><p>The bell rings and everyone else files out of the room, and Oksana sits sulking at her desk feeling very sorry for herself.</p><p>“You’d better get a move on,” Eve says, laying a piece of paper on Oksana’s desk. “This is today’s assignment. If you complete it in detention and hand it in to me when you first get to class tomorrow I won’t mark it late.”</p><p>Oksana would normally make some sarcastic comment at this point, but her wallet feels sooooo empty and there’s no jingle jangle of car keys when she moves, so she just picks up the assignment and trudges out of the room without looking back.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Detention is boring and she does the stupid assignment, except she doesn’t tell Mrs. Polastri her real favorite historical figure, she chooses Caligula instead and says it’s because of the massive orgies he was always having. To be fair, she doesn’t actually know who her favorite historical figure is, or if she even has one. She has never wasted her time thinking about it.</p><p>She is so annoyed by the time she gets into Uncle Konstantin’s stupid Range Rover instead of her Reventon that she forgets to buckle her seatbelt. Well, she forgets until the car isn’t moving and she’s being stared at, and then she rolls her eyes and jams the buckle into the receptacle before looking away from his stupid face to stare out the window.</p><p>She hates not having her car the most. Because there is nothing she can do about that. Or the credit cards. But the cash... well... she’s not stupid. She has cash stashed in many places in her bedroom for occasions such as this, and as soon as she’s locked away in there she shoves a wad of it into the bottom of her schoolbag, under all the books.</p><p>Her history assignment catches her eye as she withdraws her hand, and she takes it out and decides to add some offensive drawings of penises and vaginas to illustrate the Roman orgies she’s written about. Then she shoves it back into her bag and climbs out on to the roof to smoke a cigarette.</p><p>***</p><p>Eve looks up when Oksana steps through the door ten minutes early. She prepares for some kind of verbal attack, but is pleasantly surprised when the girl just turns in her assignment from yesterday.</p><p>Pleasantly surprised, that is, until she sees the obscene drawings and actually reads the paragraph. “No,” she says, walking over and setting the paper in front of Oksana. “That’s a zero.”</p><p>“What?!” Oksana’s face heats up and she fights not to get out of her chair. “I did the assignment, you can’t give me a zero!”</p><p>“You have about eight minutes to redo it if you want a better score.”</p><p>“But what’s wrong with <em>this</em> one?!” She knows she wrote inappropriate things but she <em>did</em> follow the directions and she <em>did</em> answer the question as it was posed.</p><p>“Oh, you mean besides the graffiti?” Eve asks, pointing out the little drawings unnecessarily. “How about the fact that you’ve used words in there that no sixteen-year-old should even know? This paper is tantamount to sexual harassment, Oksana. You now have six minutes to redo it if you want any points.”</p><p>Oksana actually feels upset that Mrs. Polastri won’t give her any points for this paper. “But the structure is sound and I did answer the question accurately,” she protests. “I understand if you are too repressed to enjoy the content, but you can at least acknowledge the skill with which I wrote it.”</p><p>Eve doesn’t let herself be baited into a negotiation. She glances at the clock, then back to Oksana. “Four minutes. Your choice.”</p><p>“FINE!” Oksana explodes. “You want me to write about something boring and be like everybody else!” She tears a piece of paper from her history notebook and starts scribbling furiously with her pencil. It’s basically illegible and she’s pressing so hard she rips the paper several times, but she finishes with one minute to spare and hands in a very boring, very normal answer about Amelia Earhart.</p><p>Eve looks at it as the other students start to come in, and shakes her head, handing it back. “I can’t read this. Copy it legibly and now it’s late.”</p><p>Oksana is in too much disbelief to do anything for about ten seconds, but then she snaps. She upends her desk, crumples the paper, and throws it on the floor on her way out of the classroom. Fuck this. She’ll just go—She stops in the hallway because she remembers she doesn’t have her car.</p><p>She feels frustrated tears on her cheeks and ducks into the nearest bathroom so no one will walk by and see her crying. It’s not fair, really, that she’s written the assignment twice now and still isn’t getting any credit. She’s used to top marks. Her work really is good and she does put in effort even though she would never tell anyone that.</p><p>She’s distracted from her misery by her phone buzzing.</p><p>
  <em>UK: You’re about to lose your phone next, Oksana. Go fix your desk and rewrite the assignment.</em>
</p><p>She bites on her forearm to muffle a scream that reverberates around the tiled bathroom anyway, and she wipes her cheeks and checks the mirror to make sure she wasn’t crying long enough to look like she’s been crying. She hasn’t, so she stalks out of the bathroom and back to class, picking up her desk and sitting with a growl. She can’t believe Mrs. Polastri told her uncle! It’s so <em>wrong</em>! And now she has to write the assignment for the third time and her hand is going to hurt.</p><p>Eve watches Oksana fix the desk and sit. She ignores the growl and looks at the girl, catching her eye and then looking pointedly at the crumpled ball of paper that’s still on the floor. The only attitude she gets, thankfully, is an eye roll, and Oksana retrieves the paper, smooths it out and starts recopying it. Eve hopes this one will be legible.</p><p>“Oksana, you can finish that before you join us in the lesson. Everyone else, open up your textbooks to the first unit. On pages three and ten, you’ll find examples of cave paintings from Lascaux, France. Now... they mostly drew animals they hunted. What I want you to do is get a paper and one of the special pens from the back table, and you’re going to do two things. First, you’re going to write your assigned vocabulary word and its definition somewhere on the page – and I’ll tell you which word you’re each assigned – and then I want you to draw a representation of that vocabulary word. Do everything in pencil first and then go over it with the special pens, and raise your hand if you have any questions. Okay?” She looks around and so far no one has any questions, so she continues. “Okay. Go get the paper and pens now and I’ll write your assigned words on the white board.”</p><p>Oksana is still half listening to Mrs. Polastri as she copies her assignment in legible handwriting, and she wants to be angry but she likes the sound of the activity, so she hurries up to finish writing and raises her hand. “Mrs. Polastri?” she says, because she realizes the teacher is faced away writing their names on the white board.</p><p>Eve cringes, but tries not to let that be an automatic reaction to hearing Oksana’s voice and smooths her features before she turns around. “Yes?”</p><p>“I’m finished. Can I go get my paper and pen now?”</p><p>Eve is thrilled, but tries not to show that either. She does offer a little smile of encouragement, though, one that’s appropriate for the occasion and doesn’t look like she’s just won a huge battle. “Great! Leave the assignment on my desk and yes, you can go get your paper and pen.”</p><p>Oksana puts the paragraph on the teacher’s desk, gets her supplies, and looks for her name on the board to see what word she has.</p><p>
  <strong>Oksana – fossils</strong>
</p><p>Fossils. Not too bad. Should be easy to draw. She wonders if anyone has ever found a penis fossil. She looks again to see what words her friends got.</p><p>
  <strong>Hugo – archaeology</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>Kenny – hominid</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>Jasper – Paleolithic Age</strong>
</p><p>Hmm. She’s glad she got fossils. She will brag about the easiness of her word tomorrow at lunch.</p><p>She writes FOSSILS across the top of the paper in a very beautiful kind of lettering, and puts the definition underneath. Rocklike remains of biological organisms.</p><p>And then she draws a very perfect, very large penis fossil and shades it so that it looks very perfectly realistic except for being rocklike instead of having skin and muscles and veins.</p><p>Once she is satisfied, she goes over everything with the special pen, which doesn’t show up at all, just makes the pencil strokes look wet. It is probably heat activated ink or glow in the dark. She doesn’t really care because she is so caught up looking at her drawing and being very proud of it.</p><p>“Jesus Christ, Oksana, you drew a dick!” Hugo hisses from behind her. “Are you <em>trying</em> to get suspended?”</p><p>She turns to look over her shoulder at him. “Shh!” And she turns back to her beautiful drawing.</p><p>Eve lets them work for fifteen minutes, then gives a five-minute warning to wrap up so they’ll have enough time to get all of the artwork onto the walls. Once she gives the five-minute warning she starts walking around to look at the ones that are finished. Hugo’s is great – he’s got a lot of artistic talent and he’s drawn an entire archaeological dig. She freezes at Oksana’s desk. Runs a hand over her face to give her strength. “Are you serious?”</p><p>“I know, right?” Oksana asks, running her hand over her drawing. “It looks so real. I did not know I could draw so well.”</p><p>“No, that’s not—” Eve breathes. “Yes, you draw very well, but what I meant was did you seriously draw an inappropriate part of the male anatomy as your fossil?”</p><p>Oksana is stuck on the part where Mrs. Polastri says she draws very well. “I do draw very well, don’t I?”</p><p>Eve is going to need chocolate after school. “That is not the point. Your drawing is inappropriate and you know it.”</p><p>Oksana looks up at the teacher with a frown. “Well maybe a little bit, but it shows off my skill so I think it is fine, right?”</p><p>“No,” Eve says. “It’s not fine. We’re about to put these up on the wall and now you can’t participate.”</p><p>Oksana feels something in the pit of her stomach that she does not like, and her eyes get a little big. “I worked hard and it is a good drawing,” she says, feeling defensive and sad about it even though she knows she should not have drawn a penis. She did not think it would get her excluded from the rest of the activity. “No, I—please do not—please let me participate.”</p><p>Eve leans down so that no one can overhear. “You are going to learn to be appropriate in this class. No more anatomy drawings. While the rest of the class is putting up their pictures, you may redo yours. If you finish with enough time left and I approve of the content, you may put it up. And I <em>really</em> don’t want to have to have this conversation again.”</p><p>Oksana feels stupid tears trying to sting her eyes again and she’ll die before she cries in front of anyone so she forces them down behind a wall of anger and rips her paper in two, then in four, then in eight and crosses the room to throw the scraps away, only just keeping herself from kicking the trash can into the wall.</p><p>Eve isn’t sure whether the paper ripping will precede another explosion, but when Oksana throws away the pieces and goes to get another paper, she relaxes. Marginally. Because she doesn’t think she’ll ever be able to relax all the way with this girl in her class. This girl she saw making out with another girl in a bar.</p><p>
  <em>No, Eve. No.</em>
</p><p>Oksana hates sitting at her desk redoing her assignment while everyone else gets to find a place on the wall to put theirs. She draws a literal rock this time, then remembers it has to be a biological organism, so she erases that and draws a starfish. It’s not as good as the penis, but she’s okay with it, and she really doesn’t want to talk to Mrs. Polastri again but she raises her hand.</p><p>Eve hopes for the best and walks over, and when she sees the starfish on the page, she’s extremely happy. “This is excellent,” she says, and it’s the truth. Not that the penis hadn’t been excellently drawn, but it had not been excellent all around. This is excellent all around. “There’s enough time to put it up; go find a spot.” She offers a smile and is glad she does because she sees Oksana’s posture sag with relief and then turn excited as the girl hops out of her seat.</p><p>Oksana finds a spot next to Hugo’s and tapes it up just as the bell rings.</p><p>“Okay, tomorrow we’re going to turn the classroom into a cave!” Eve calls as the students all rush the door.</p><p>Oksana stays behind after class. She’s all packed up and ready to leave, but she wants to know something. “You did like my drawing, didn’t you? If it was not for a year 11 history class?”</p><p>Eve forces down a smirk and looks at the girl, noticing her uniform violations for the first time. Maybe because Oksana is sitting on top of her desk instead of behind it, and she can see that the skirt is rolled up and the last two buttons of her shirt are undone. Interesting, really, because most students trying to get away with unbuttoned buttons choose the top two. Oksana’s tie is loose and her socks aren’t pulled up all the way. Eve’s heart races when Oksana catches the appraisal, and she speaks a little harshly to compensate. “Sort out your uniform violations before you come into my classroom tomorrow or you’ll be back in the office.”</p><p>Oksana had seen Mrs. Polastri looking her up and down, and of course the teacher uses the uniform violations as an excuse. She scoots off the edge of her desk and walks over to stand in front of Eve. She wants to call Mrs. Polastri Eve. “What violations? This is the kit the school gave me,” she says, enjoying the fact that her proximity seems to unnerve the teacher. “Do you mean my buttons?” she asks, leaning closer, but Eve steps away from her.</p><p>It’s too hot and suffocating and Eve has to get Oksana out of this room. “All of the violations. Now get out of here before I change my mind about giving you the twenty-four hours to comply.” She waves what she hopes looks like a dismissive hand.</p><p>Oksana counts Eve’s retreat as a victory. She knows when she is wanted. She leaves the classroom secure in the knowledge that Mrs. Polastri does indeed want her, and this... this will be much better than trying to irritate her teacher. She is absolutely, one hundred percent going to <em>seduce</em> her teacher instead.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Oksana decides to be a better student.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>With all seven periods’ drawings on the walls, the room is almost covered. Eve had brought blackout curtains to cover the windows, and when she turns the light out, the drawings on the walls glow in the dark and look like cave art. She’s gotten good reactions from the first six periods, but Oksana is the wild card.</p><p>When everyone is seated, Eve waits for the bell to finish ringing and then shuts out the lights, enjoying the gasps and murmurs and the sounds of students shifting in their seats to look around.</p><p>Oksana jumps at first because she doesn’t like the dark, but there is enough glow from the drawings on the walls to illuminate the room, so she feels okay. She looks around, and it is <em>actually</em> amazing, and feels like she is <em>actually</em> in a cave. She gets a tiny pang of regret for giving Mrs. Polastri a hard time the past three days because this isn’t something a bad teacher would do. This is something a really good teacher would do. Make things fun. Normally history is the most boring class ever, but this is not boring. At all. This is different and she likes it a lot and it makes her squirm in her seat because she wants so many things right now and all of them have to do with her teacher.</p><p>She decides she is going to be the best student from now on. Teachers like good students and if she can be the best, Eve will like her the most. She raises her hand and hopes it is light enough for Eve to see her.</p><p>Eve sends a quick ask skyward that this isn’t about to be another battle, then smiles at Oksana. “Yes?”</p><p>Oksana pulls her feet up onto her chair, her uniform shoes making a little clacking sound when they make contact, and she hugs her arms around her knees. “Thank you,” she says.</p><p>Eve waits for more, but the girl doesn’t say anything else. For some reason it sets her on edge, like the calm before the storm, but she really doesn’t want to think that way about one of her students so she tries to relax. “You’re welcome,” she says simply, and then asks the class at large, “what do you guys think? Cool?”</p><p>“Wicked cool,” someone says from the back. Eve isn’t sure if it’s Jasper or Kenny, but a bunch of other students echo the sentiment, their voices overlapping, and it makes her happy. She loves making her students happy. Not only is it rewarding, but it makes teaching them so much easier when they’re actively involved and interested.</p><p>“Do you feel like you’re in a cave?” Eve asks. “Let’s push all the desks to the edge of the room and have class on the floor.”</p><p>When the desks are out of the way and everyone is settled on the floor, she passes out pieces of parchment paper and calligraphy pens.</p><p>“Okay. Today’s assignment is this. Imagine you live in this cave. You’re a hunter or a gatherer. Write a journal entry about a day in your life. Raise your hand if you have questions. And, go!”</p><p>Oksana is definitely a hunter. She gets settled on her knees and leans forward onto her elbows, starting to write.</p><p>
  <em>I peer through the thick brush. My family will starve if I do not perform admirably.</em>
</p><p>Eve watches everyone get to work and grins because literally every student starts writing within the first thirty seconds or so. Despite the bumps with Oksana, this year is going really well so f—oh for fuck’s sake! As she heads for her desk she sees the way the little imp is positioned, with that skirt riding up to show the very edge of her panties. Jesus Christ. Her first thought is of how satisfying it would be to walk over and just haul off and slap her bottom, but obviously that would be a one-way ticket to unemployment and unemployability, so she subtly nudges Oksana’s shoulders with a knee as she walks by.</p><p>Oksana looks up at the nudge, figuring it’s Hugo, but when it’s Mrs. Polastri, she freezes, her eyes going a bit wide. Why is Mrs. Polastri nudg—oh. The way she’s sitting. She straightens up a little, totally frustrated with herself for not having thought to sit that way on purpose. She needs her A-Game to win Eve over and <em>accidentally</em> sitting inappropriately is D-Game at best. She feels her cheeks go hot at the injustice.</p><p>Eve watches the girl correct herself and the flush on Oksana’s cheeks is a good sign. She <em>should</em> be embarrassed for showing off her panties to whoever happened to be behind her.</p><p>Once Mrs. Polastri is behind her desk, Oksana leans over again, this time deliberately, and keeps writing.</p><p>Eve settles to let them work and of course she notices Oksana lean back over, but she’s not taking the bait. She ignores the blatant attempt to goad her into action a second time.</p><p>***</p><p>She has the students drop their parchment papers on her desk on their way out the door, but of course Oksana holds hers out instead, and when Eve goes to take it, the girl tugs lightly on it and leans forward just close enough to be <em>wrong</em>, then chortles and lets go and walks out.</p><p>Eve frowns and shoves her paper into the middle of the stack just because. If Oksana wants her to read it first, then she very immaturely will fight back by reading it in the middle.</p><p>Some of the papers are pretty good, Hugo’s especially, but some lack creativity and even proper grammar and spelling, like Devon’s, for example. She will have to work with him and see if it was more about rushing or if the kid really didn’t know how to spell spear, or attack, or any number of other words that year 11 students should absolutely be able to spell.</p><p>Oksana’s is next, and she starts reading.</p><p>
  <em>I peer through the thick brush. My family will starve if I do not perform admirably. My grip is tight on my spear. I am not nervous. I do not want my hands to sweat. I have my eye on one fat boar that will feed us for many, many days. I cannot fail, but I am not nervous. The threat of failure only serves to ensure my success. I breathe slowly. Quietly. I do not want my expanding chest to rustle the brush and alert my prey.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The boar moves. I move. My spear hits home. Slices through flesh and muscle. I push it deeper. I do not need to prolong the suffering. I am efficient. I am quick. I am strong.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The blood on my hands calls to me, transfixes me, draws my eyes to its sinister duality. The blood of life. The blood of death. These are the same, and it is on my hands. Death for the boar means life for my family. It is warm and thick and sticky, running between my fingers and under my fingernails. I will not say that I like the blood. But it satisfies me. It sates the primal hunger. It soothes the beast inside.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Today, I will feed my family. Tomorrow, I may not have one.</em>
</p><p>Eve stares at the paper, goosebumps lining her arms and the back of her neck. She’s breathing hard, she realizes, and sets down the diary page, running a hand through her hair. “Fuck.”</p><p>***</p><p>“You need to do something,” Konstantin says at dinner.</p><p>Oksana rolls her eyes and shoves her food around on her plate with her fork. “I don’t want to do anything.”</p><p>“What about choir? You like to sing?”</p><p>“I like to sing in my CAR along with the radio,” she scoffs at him, looking at him as if he’s stupid. “Not school choir songs. For real, Uncle, as if.”</p><p>“What about volleyball?”</p><p>“Ugh, no! I hate sports! And there’s no volleyball coach anyway.”</p><p>“Yes there is,” he says, pointing his fork at her. “Mrs. Polastri is the coach.”</p><p>Oksana nearly drops her soda and takes a drink to cover her reaction. Her heart is racing just at the mention of the teacher’s name, and she takes another drink trying to look uninterested. “I guess sports is better than choir,” she mumbles, playing up her misery. “But if I have to do something, I guess I will choose the volleyball. But I am very bad at it! No one wanted me on their team last year in P.E. until I started kicking—”</p><p>“Yes, I recall what you did, thank you, no reminder is necessary,” Konstantin interrupts her, holding up a hand. “This will be good for you. Doing a sport builds character and responsibility.”</p><p>She snaps her head toward him. “You do not think I have character?”</p><p>“I think you could use a little more of it,” Konstantin says with a shrug. “We all could. I am glad for you to make this decision.”</p><p>Oksana pouts, but on the inside she’s giddy. Just one more part of the day that she will be sharing with Eve. “I’m done,” she says, and stands up, pushing her chair backward with her thighs and heading for her room.</p><p>“Your plate, you heathen!” Konstantin squeaks around a mouthful of mashed potatoes.</p><p>She stops; rolls her eyes; turns back. “Ugh. You are the worst.” She picks up the plate and fork and walks it to the kitchen, scrapes off the small amount of food left into the trash, and puts it in the sink, dropping her fork in after.</p><p>“Your soda!”</p><p>She grabs her soda from the table on the way to her room and slams the door. She puts the can on her nightstand and flops face first onto her bed, propping herself up on her elbows and pulling her journal out from under her pillow.</p><p>The first thing she does is draw a volleyball and put a big O in one of the panels and a big E in the one next to it. This makes her smile and she settles in to write.</p><p>
  <em>I am going to join the volleyball team so I can spend more time with Eve. I hate sports, but it will be worth it. If I do not get kicked off of the team for being the worst at volleyball. Because I really am shit at this game. I am only going to play to be close to Eve. I will do my best to improve my volleyball skills so she will not want to kick me off of the team.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Did you know that her hair is perfect? I could stare at her wild curls all day long and never get bored. No, that is not true... I would definitely get bored. But I still really love her hair. I wish I could smell it and touch it. I wonder how she would react if I did that. Maybe I will see what I can get away with. Hm. I like my idea very much.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I will write more about Eve tomorrow.</em>
</p><p>She closes the journal and slides it back under her pillow, and grabs her phone to text Hugo.</p><p>O: <em>do you think mrs polastri likes me</em></p><p>She rests her head on the screen while she waits for him to answer, and the buzz is uncomfortable against her temple when he does.</p><p>H: <em>Not really, why?</em></p><p>Her eyes go wide and she stares at the message.</p><p>O: <em>what!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!</em></p><p>H: <em>Come on O you got sent to the office the first and second days of school. You’re always fucking about. Why would any teacher like you?</em></p><p>O: <em>that is so mean I am amazing</em></p><p>H: <em>Well I know that and you know that, but Mrs. Polastri doesn’t know that, does she?</em></p><p>Oksana reads that message three times and decides that Hugo has a point.</p><p>***</p><p>There is a letter on her desk when Eve gets to class on Friday morning. She approaches warily in case there’s a young person hiding somewhere nearby, but when the coast is clear, she sinks into her chair and opens the folded paper. Her eyebrows lift as she reads.</p><p>Dear Mrs. Polastri,</p><p>            I am really sorry for misbehaving the first few days of school. It is hard for me to accept change, and I have been at this school for a very long time without many new teachers arriving. But this is no excuse. You are a very good teacher and I do not want to cause you trouble, so I will be on my best behavior from now on. I hope you can forgive me.</p><p>Love,</p><p>Oksana Anatoliyevna Astankova (Except I wish my middle name was Jolene, so you can call me Oksana Jolene Astankova)</p><p>Eve is almost touched. Well, she’s touched for a split second until she feels the gift card taped to the back – a $200 VISA gift card.</p><p>She sighs and untapes the gift card, putting it and the letter into her top right desk drawer.</p><p>And when Oksana comes happily into the classroom before seventh period, she gets the gift card back out of the drawer and holds it out. “I can’t take this,” she says flatly.</p><p>Oksana halts halfway to her desk and stares at Eve’s outstretched hand. “What? Why not? You deserve it for the trouble I have caused you.”</p><p>“No, Oksana,” Eve insists, shaking the card at the girl. “You can’t just buy me off; do you even realize how insulting that is? How insincere it makes your apology letter?”</p><p>Oksana’s heart is racing and she quickly grabs the card, trying to understand as she slinks into her seat and puts down her backpack. “I don’t—” She shakes her head, eyes squinted in concentration, thinking.</p><p>The reaction looks genuine from where Eve is standing, but this girl is, once again, the wild card in her life right now. She has to tread carefully. “You don’t pay off your teachers, Oksana. The apology letter by itself is enough. When you add money it becomes a bribe, do you see?”</p><p>Oksana pulls her feet up onto her chair because her knees protect her heart when she is in that position, and she might not understand the whole thing but she definitely understands the word bribe, and that was not what she’d had in mind when she used some of her hidden cash to get that gift card. “I was not trying to bribe you,” she says. “But in my family, when you do something wrong, you apologize and you send a present. I did not know what present to get you so I wanted you to be able to get your own.”</p><p>So many feelings assault Eve at once that she’s not sure how to sort them out... all she knows is that she believes Oksana, believes this was a genuine misunderstanding, and she hopes it can really be a fresh start for them. She walks to the girl’s desk and offers a gentle smile. “Let’s chalk it up to cultural differences, then. Thank you very much for the apology. It’s not always easy to say you’re sorry.”</p><p>Oksana’s chest thumps a little less violently after Mrs. Polastri seems to believe her and she starts to relax. “I will not give you a gift card again,” she promises. With Mrs. Polastri so close, she catches the faint scent of apples. Her eyes close without her permission and she breathes slow; deep. “You smell very nice, Mrs. Polastri.”</p><p>Eve’s red flags throw down and there’s a brief battle inside her head about how to respond. Too harsh and she’ll upset the delicate balance they’ve just navigated, but too soft and she’ll tip the balance toward Oksana. “That’s very thoughtful but not quite appropriate to say to your teacher.” She decides on grateful but scolding and moves away from Oksana’s desk.</p><p>Oksana lets out a breath bit by bit, cheeks puffing out, because that definitely could have gone worse. It could have gone better, too, but it could have gone worse.</p><p>***</p><p>By the middle of class, things have settled and they’re interacting like a typical student and teacher. Oksana asks a question about the model she’s making and Eve answers. Oksana raises her hand and asks to go to the bathroom, and Eve tells her to wait because there’s only ten minutes left of class, and Oksana waits. It is most assuredly an improvement over the last time the girl had asked to go to the bathroom during class.</p><p>“Okay, five minutes left so start cleaning up. There’s a space in the back to put your models and we’ll finish them on Monday. Put your supplies back where you got them and you can get them again on Monday.”</p><p>Oksana stops by Mrs. Polastri’s desk after the bell. “Why don’t you let me go to the bathroom ever?”</p><p>“Because class is forty minutes long and you have a ten-minute break between sixth and seventh periods.”</p><p>Oksana frowns and puts her hands on the desk, leaning forward. “But what if I get a bladder infection from having to hold it?”</p><p>“First of all, if you had to go badly enough that holding it would give you a bladder infection, you’d be in the bathroom right now instead of talking to me, and second, use the bathroom before my class. Unless you have an issue, and then you can bring me a doctor’s note and use the bathroom whenever you like. Do you have an issue, Oksana?”</p><p>Oksana licks her lips as she tries to decide how to respond to that, and finally she gives a little shake of her head. “No. No issue.”</p><p>Eve’s eyes watch the path of the girl’s tongue as it traces soft lips, and she blinks herself out of it. “Good. Then behave and use the bathroom during break.”</p><p>She thinks Oksana is about to leave, but the girl turns back and leans in again. “What if I don’t have to go during break?”</p><p>The tone is too intimate; too familiar, and the way Oksana is looking at her is settling off alarm bells that threaten to render her senseless. “Go on,” she says, refusing to answer, jerking her head toward the door. “Go enjoy your weekend.”</p><p>Oksana thinks she’s maybe won a round, and she wants to push, push, push, but she won’t. She sighs and rolls her eyes and starts for the door, and when she’s in the doorway she looks back at the teacher. “I’m so glad we’ve come to an agreement. And I really, really like your hair.”</p><p>Then she’s gone.</p><p>Eve lifts a hand to her hair almost absently, her brows furrowed in thought. She’ll wear it up next week to avoid that kind of comment. Yes. Wearing it up will definitely fix that problem.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you to all of my readers for your support :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Oksana behaves. Until she doesn't.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Oksana is disappointed on Monday afternoon to find Mrs. Polastri’s hair pulled up into a tight bun. <em>Is it because of me?</em> she wonders as she sits down at her desk, an uncomfortable feeling blooming in her chest. What if it <em>is</em> because of her? What if saying she liked Mrs. Polastri’s hair did not make her teacher feel good, but made her change her hair instead? It feels like rejection and it burns on the back of her tongue and behind her eyes. She does not like this feeling. She raises her hand before class even begins, and when Eve acknowledges her she speaks in a raspy voice. “I don’t feel well.”</p><p>Eve walks over to stand in front of Oksana’s desk. “What’s wrong?”</p><p><em>You hurt my feelings</em>. “My stomach is a bit queasy and my throat hurts,” Oksana says, and half of that is true. Her stomach is absolutely queasy, it’s just nothing to do with being ill. “May I go to the office?”</p><p>Eve looks at the girl with a little frown. “Did these things just come on? I mean... lunch was before fifth period and this is seventh.”</p><p>Oksana is going to say something stupid if she does not get out of this classroom. “I am very—ohhhh,” she turns to the side and leans over like she’s going to vomit. “Please, Mrs. Polastri...”</p><p>Eve still isn’t sure she believes Oksana, but it’s better to let her go and be right than to make her stay and be wrong. “Go ahead, just bring a note from the nurse with you tomorrow.”</p><p>“Thank you,” Oksana chokes out, making sure she has all of her stuff before beating a quick retreat. She debates skipping, but she still doesn’t have her car, so she actually goes to the office and just sits there sulking and bored.</p><p>She’s being stupid, though. Why should her feelings be hurt over how her history teacher wears her hair? Her amazing hair, but still just hair.</p><p>Because she had worn it down all last week, and then as soon as Oksana said she liked it, Mrs. Polastri put it up, like she was hiding it.</p><p>She feels silly for being upset over it, but she can’t help it. Ugh. She gets out her phone and starts browsing Instagram. There’s a picture of a goat on her feed and it’s adorable, and she’s just laughing at it as her uncle comes out of his office.</p><p>“You don’t look sick to me,” he says. “Go back to class.”</p><p>“Uncle Konstan—”</p><p>“Excuse me, we are not at home.”</p><p>“Ugh. Mr. Vasiliev, my stomach is queasy and my throat hurts.”</p><p>“So you are on your phone? Laughing when you feel sick? Do I look stupid to you?”</p><p>She sneers. “Do you really want me to answer that?”</p><p>“Go back to class or I take your phone.”</p><p>She feels anger bubbling up, the kind she can’t control, and she runs out of the office before it erupts and she does something to get her phone taken. She runs as fast as she can the entire way back to history class, hoping to wear herself out so all she can focus on is not being able to breathe instead of focusing on not getting away with playing sick.</p><p>She is actually out of breath when she reaches the classroom, and she peers in the window on the door to see what they’re doing. They’re working on the models from Friday. She could just leave and walk somewhere, but she does really want to finish her model...</p><p>Decision made, she pushes the door open and slinks to her desk, trying to be unobtrusive for once as she sets down her things and makes her way to the back of the classroom for her model and supplies.</p><p>Eve waits until the bell rings and everyone else is leaving before she approaches Oksana’s desk. “Why did you pretend to be sick?”</p><p>Oksana freezes in the act of packing up her things and looks past her teacher to the door. “I have to go, I’m getting a ride with my uncle until I get my car back.”</p><p>“And he doesn’t leave until four o’clock. Why did you pretend to be sick, Oksana?”</p><p>Oh, God. She loves the way Mrs. Polastri says her name. “It’s stupid,” she mutters under her breath.</p><p>“I’d still like to know,” Eve says with an encouraging smile.</p><p>Oksana is now staring at her desk. She can’t look at Mrs. Polastri. “You put your hair up.” Her voice is much smaller and weaker than she would like.</p><p>Red flags. Red flags. Alarm bells. Tread carefully. “You pretended to be sick because I put my hair up?”</p><p>“I think you put it up because I told you I liked it when it was down.” She’s still staring at her desk, fingers plucking nervously at the hem of her skirt. Maybe Eve will say she’s being silly and it has nothing to do with her. She doesn’t know if that would make this conversation better or worse. She already wants to run. Her legs twitch with the urge to get up and run.</p><p>Eve takes a seat in the desk to Oksana’s right and rests her forearms on her knees, clasping her fingers together. She takes a slow breath, because this is going to be difficult. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate the compliment,” she starts, choosing her words carefully. “But Oksana, I’m your teacher. We can’t have that kind of relationship. You can’t flirt with me, it’s inappropriate.”</p><p>Oksana’s face burns. This must be what other people feel when they’re embarrassed. It hasn’t happened to her quite like this before. “Are you going to put me in another history class?”</p><p>“Of course not. I treasure you as a student,” Eve says, trying to lessen the blow. She remembers having crushes on teachers in high school, she had just never been bold enough to make them known the way Oksana does. “I want to be your teacher. Your hunter diary entry was incredible. You’re a smart girl and a good student when you apply yourself. I just need you to behave, okay? Please.”</p><p>“Yes, can I go now?” Oksana asks in a rush. She really needs out of this classroom. She still can’t look at Eve.</p><p>“You can go,” Eve says with a nod. “I’ll see you tomorrow. No faking sick. We’re going to be painting the models.”</p><p>Oksana likes painting. Painting is a lot better than what they are doing in her other classes. She chances one glance at her teacher as she gets up from her desk, and she thinks that Eve looks like this was hard for her too. “Bye,” she mumbles and takes off out the door.</p><p>It’s awkward. It’s so awkward. But it’s necessary, and Eve doesn’t regret it. If she doesn’t state her expectations to Oksana, how can Oksana meet them?</p><p>***</p><p>The next three weeks are glorious. Absolutely glorious. Eve does not have one single problem with Oksana. The girl has started showing up on time instead of ten minutes early, sitting quietly in her seat unless she has something on-topic to contribute to the discussion, she doesn’t ask to use the bathroom or pretend to be sick or say anything about Eve’s clothes or hair or try to get too close to her or do anything of the sort. She is, in fact, the model student, and Eve is so glad they had <em>the talk</em>.</p><p>Oksana comes into her classroom during lunch period on a Tuesday while she’s trying to plan out what to do during the first volleyball practice, which is tentatively scheduled for Monday. Things have been great, so she offers a smile. “Everything okay?” she asks after swallowing the bite of sandwich in her mouth.</p><p>“Everything’s fine, Mrs. Polastri,” Oksana says. She’s been so, so good for the last few weeks and she’s going fucking crazy. She can’t take it. Every time Eve looks at her she gets excited even though she knows that her teacher doesn’t share her thoughts.</p><p>But she can’t. She can’t be good anymore. It’s too hard and it hurts too much. And volleyball starts in less than a week. She needs to get Mrs. Polastri thinking some kind of thoughts about her before volleyball starts.</p><p>“Did you have a question about the homework from yesterday?” Eve asks since there’s apparently not a problem.</p><p>“No,” Oksana says, shaking her head, walking closer. “I just wanted to see you.”</p><p>“You’ll see me this afternoon,” Eve says, raising an eyebrow. What is Oksana getting at? “You’re not really supposed to be in here during lunch unless you need something.”</p><p>“I do need something.”</p><p>“Okay, what is it?”</p><p>“I need someone to keep me in line. I’ve been out partying every night lately and I’m afraid I won’t get my homework done. I thought I could sit in here for lunch period so you can supervise and make me do it.”</p><p>Eve grimaces. She should’ve known that Oksana’s attitude adjustment was too good to be true. Or at least too perfect to last. “That wouldn’t be appropriate,” she says somewhat stiffly.</p><p>“Why not? Think of it like detention, just at lunch instead,” Oksana says, veering toward her own desk and taking a seat.</p><p>“Oksana, no,” Eve says, and she’s gone from skeptical to firm. “Please leave.”</p><p>“Or what? You’ll send me to the office? I think we’re past that, don’t you?”</p><p>“I will send you to the office, yes,” Eve says, because any other option is out of the question.</p><p>Oksana rolls her eyes. “Come on, Mrs. Polastri. If you want me out of your classroom, at least grow some balls and toss me out yourself.”</p><p>“Where is this attitude coming from?” Eve asks instead of rising to the challenge. “Did I do something to hurt you that I am unaware of?”</p><p>Oksana feels the slightest bit bad, but she really can’t be the good little girl anymore. “It has taken <em>everything</em> I have to behave. I ran out of willpower. Sorry.”</p><p>“If that’s all you have to say, you have thirty seconds to be out of this room or I’ll call the office and have them come to get you.”</p><p>“Oh no, Mrs. Polastri, I have much, much more to say. Are you ready to hear it? Maybe you should come a little closer.”</p><p>Eve shakes her head and picks up the phone.</p><p>“Kiss my ass,” Oksana tells her, furious that she can’t even get Eve to grab her arm and escort her out of the room. It is such a basic thing to be able to goad someone into, and she does not like failure. The tips of her ears are burning as she stands and flips her desk, then stalks out of the room.</p><p>Eve hangs up the phone and slumps down in her chair, putting her face in her hands. She honestly has no idea how to deal with this again.</p><p>Maybe Oksana is just having a bad day.</p><p>She can only hope.</p><p>***</p><p>It’s not just a bad day. Class ends up with Oksana getting detention for writing <em>Oksana loves Mrs. P</em> on her desk in permanent marker.</p><p>On Wednesday she gets her friend Jasper in trouble with her by sitting on his lap and making out with him halfway through class. They both get an office referral and detention.</p><p>Eve honestly doesn’t know what to do. She really doesn’t want to have to resort to switching Oksana out of her class, but she doesn’t know how much more she can take. She’s only human; her tolerance only extends so far.</p><p>On Thursday Oksana just keeps interrupting her until she raises her voice. “Be quiet!” she shouts, and she doesn’t like to do that. But her edges are frayed and she’s about to start ripping her hair out or taking up smoking or something equally as damaging.</p><p>Oksana smirks. Finally, a reaction. “Maybe if you spanked your students like the last history teacher, we’d behave better.”</p><p>Eve is on her last nerve and she snaps without thinking, “you’re the only one who won’t behave. I don’t have a problem with anyone else in this class or any of my other classes. It’s just you. Now be quiet or get out. Everyone else is trying to learn.”</p><p>Oksana relishes her victory, flips Mrs. Polastri the middle finger, and skips out of class. Shaking that unshakable calm has made her very excited and she’s practically buzzing as she skips down the hall. This feeling is so much better than the feeling of being good. This is who she is, and she likes herself this way. The last few weeks she hasn’t felt entirely like herself, and she’s glad to shed the sheep’s clothing.</p><p>***</p><p>Eve complains to Bill about everything on Thursday night. “I wish you could come visit.”</p><p>“Sorry, but Russia just isn’t on the itinerary this week,” he teases. “What are you so worked up about? Just spank the brat and be done with it.”</p><p>She gives him a look. “I’m not doing that. I actually like my job most of the time, and I like my freedom all of the time.”</p><p>“Oh please, you wouldn’t go to jail. She’s sixteen, isn’t she? That’s legal for loads of stuff.”</p><p>“Shut up, Bill. I don’t even want to know why you know that.”</p><p>“I know it because I looked it up for you after the last time we talked, because I knew you’d never look it up yourself.”</p><p>“Of course I wouldn’t! And with good reason!”</p><p>“Aren’t you even going to ask what I learned?”</p><p>“I’m hanging up now.”</p><p>“You’re not, either,” Bill says with a laugh. “Here in England the age of consent is sixteen, except you have to be eighteen to sleep with an authority figure like a teacher. They’ve a separate clause for that, can you believe it?”</p><p>“I really don’t need to know this, Bill.”</p><p>“And yet you’re still listening,” Bill says in that aggravating <em>I’m right</em> tone of voice that sounds almost like a commercial jingle. “In Russia, the age of consent is sixteen across the board.”</p><p>“BILL, I <em>don’t</em> need to <em>know</em> that!” But her heart is racing. She shakes her head. “I hate you for telling me that. You’ve probably just given me nightmares for the foreseeable future.”</p><p>“You love me, always,” Bill says, blowing her a kiss.</p><p>“Fuck off,” she says, but she does blow him a kiss before they hang up.</p><p>She goes to bed and dreams of soft skin and green eyes, and when she wakes up in the middle of the night she refuses to go back to sleep, so she makes a cup of coffee and starts grading some papers. If she can just get through tomorrow, then she’ll have the weekend to unwind, and next week she’ll have volleyball to distract her.</p><p>***</p><p>Oksana wakes early and showers, puts her makeup on, does her hair in her favorite style – two French braids, and then she sits staring at her uniform. What can she do to it that’s subtle enough not to be noticed right away but not so subtle that it doesn’t get under Mrs. Polastri’s skin? When she’d rolled up the skirt, Mrs. Polastri had noticed and made her fix it. So what could she—oh, genius.</p><p>She gets out her sewing kit and the smile never leaves her face as she hems the skirt up a centimeter and a half. Since rolling it up had gotten noticed too quickly, this is perfect. And Mrs. Polastri can’t very well demand she sit there and unhem the skirt in the middle of class. Oh, she is going to be excited all day long.</p><p>***</p><p>Eve has a second cup of coffee before the morning bell, and despite not having slept well or through the night all the way, she feels surprisingly refreshed. Today is going to be a good day. She’s ready to deal with Oksana and keep her cool while doing it.</p><p>The assignment for the day is to revise and edit the unit one essays, which will then be turned in as final drafts on Monday. She’s giving them class time today to work on it and they can finish it over the weekend.</p><p>Movement catches her eye a few minutes after the end of sixth period and she turns her head just in time to see Oksana in the hallway flashing her tits at a lowerclassman.</p><p>Her cool evaporates. Her calm implodes. Her eyes go wide and she’s out of her desk before she even realizes she’s moving, and she’s dragging Oksana into the classroom by the back of her shirt and slamming the door; locking it. Drawing the blinds on the door’s window.</p><p>Oksana shrieks in surprise, barely managing to keep her footing as she’s dragged into Mrs. Polastri’s classroom by her shirt, and—</p><p>“You want a spanking? You got it,” Eve says, swiping seventh period’s essays off of her desk and bending Oksana over it. “Don’t fucking move.”</p><p>Oksana’s eyes bug, her heart pounding like a jackhammer, and she’s stunned into inaction, just trying to breathe.</p><p>Eve grabs a ruler from her top middle drawer and walks around the desk, grabbing the hem of the girl’s skirt and flipping it up onto her back. She’s only got about eight minutes to get her point across, so she doesn’t waste time. She cracks the ruler over Oksana’s panties – regulation white cotton, thank God – again and again and again, ignoring the gasps and squeaks and the way the girl is squirming around, and definitely ignoring the way Oksana grabs the other edge of the desk and holds on.</p><p>Oksana is still too stunned to do anything at all except hold on. The noises she’s making, the way her bottom is squirming, those things aren’t under her control, they are instinctual and they just happen. It hurts, a lot. It stings like fire and it’s humiliating and she never thought Eve would actually ever ever do this, and she wishes she’d never suggested it because fuck, fuck, fuck, it hurts like hell, and her bottom is white hot and tingling and she knows it must be bright red and she’s biting her lip to keep quiet and she wonders what Eve is thinking and feeling and—and—there are tears in her eyes because it stings so much. “Ow, please,” she says when she can finally sort herself out enough to form words, and she’s a fucking mess.</p><p>“You think you can flash your breasts in the school hallway?” Eve hisses, and the ruler finds the tops of Oksana’s bare thighs, again and again and again. “You think you can do whatever you want? Whatever the fuck you want? You <em>can’t</em>, Oksana. I’m done, do you get that? No more.” The girl’s thighs are striped an angry red and she goes back to Oksana’s cotton-covered backside, thwapping the wooden stick a dozen more times before she glances at the clock and sees it’s nearly time for class. She stops, flips Oksana’s skirt back down and puts the ruler away, smoothing out her blouse and slacks.</p><p>Oksana lays there just about in tears, her bottom and thighs on fucking fire, her face flushed and hot, blinking rapidly once it stops. She has no idea what to do with herself. Her legs are shaking, her arms are shaking, her heart is still racing and she really can’t even think.</p><p>“Get up,” Eve says sharply as she goes to unlock the door. “It’s time for class. Go sit down.”</p><p>Oh, fuck. She’s meant to stay in class after this? “Wha—what? I can’t—”</p><p>Eve pauses with her hand on the door lock and when Oksana doesn’t move, she grits her teeth and strides back over, hauling the girl up by her shirt and marching her to her desk. “Sit. Down. And I swear to God, if you give me one ounce of a problem I—”</p><p>“I won’t,” Oksana breathes, and she’s careful as she sits but it still burns like the flames of hell and her mouth twists into a grimace.</p><p>Eve lets go of the girl’s shirt once she’s sitting, and at the breathed promise she gives a terse nod. She takes in Oksana’s appearance on the whole as she unlocks the door and opens it and students start straggling in. Oksana is sitting up straight, face flushed, eyes wet but no tears have fallen, and the girl looks like she’s trying desperately to stay even the tiny bit composed that she is.</p><p>“What happened to the papers?” Hugo asks as he comes in, leaning down to pick them up.</p><p>Eve had forgotten about the papers on the floor and she’s grateful for Hugo at the moment. “The wind blew them off; I just closed the window. Thanks, Hugo,” she says, picking some of them up and then taking the pile from him.</p><p>“Sure,” he says, and stops at Oksana’s desk. “What’s happened to you? Gust of wind as well?”</p><p>Eve watches the exchange from the corner of her eye; watches Oksana offer a fake smile and a dismissive nod; watches her blink back tears after Hugo continues on to his own seat.</p><p>Oksana barely nods to Hugo and her smile feels like a foreign influence that’s taken over her mouth. She drops it as soon as he’s past her desk and blinks back tears. Her bottom smarts so badly and she’s still so embarrassed that she doesn’t know if she’ll ever be able to look Mrs. Polastri in the eye again. She can’t possibly concentrate on revising her unit one essay today, she can’t.</p><p>Eve starts passing out the papers once everyone’s seated, just as the bell rings, actually. “I’m giving you the whole class period to work on editing and revising. Final drafts are due at the beginning of class on Monday, so whatever you don’t finish today, you’ll need to finish over the weekend. Any questions?”</p><p>Oksana doesn’t raise her hand. She notices Mrs. Polastri looking her way, though, and averts her eyes. She doesn’t have any questions about the essay. The only question she has is why she’s not angry at her teacher for paddling her. By all rights, she should be furious. She should report it. She should get Mrs. Polastri fired and sent to jail.</p><p>The thought of not seeing Eve again almost sends her welled-up tears spilling over. Her pulse rushes in her ears and she can’t hear whatever question someone else is asking. She’s afraid to even shift in her seat because her bottom stings so much; afraid if she lifts her arm to start marking up her paper it’ll put pressure on her bottom and she’ll whimper or whine. Because she feels so much like whimpering and whining right now. She can’t believe she’s expected to sit through class after being paddled.</p><p>But it’s only fair, isn’t it? She has been extraordinarily awful to Mrs. Polastri this week. What choice did her teacher have, really, other than removing her from the class roster, which she most definitely does not want. Her heart would be broken if she were removed from this class.</p><p>She realizes two things then. That she’d rather take a hundred spankings than be separated from Eve, and that Eve would rather spank her than remove her from the class. Rather risk her job and her freedom to give Oksana discipline than to remove her from the class.</p><p>She gasps at that, and she looks at Mrs. Polastri, and suddenly she doesn’t care how badly her bottom and thighs are stinging; she is going to pick up her pencil and mark up her paper and do the best she can, and she’ll take the pain. Now that she knows that Eve has a little bit of an attachment to her, that paddling takes on new meaning and makes her ache in a different way.</p><p>She stays put after the bell rings and everyone else is gone. She wants to talk about it. She wants to—maybe to apologize or something, she’s not sure. All she knows is she doesn’t want Mrs. Polastri to be so angry with her anymore.</p><p>Eve is embarrassed at having capitulated, and she’s not sure whether she should apologize to Oksana or not. She’s not exactly sorry, per se, not about the spanking, but she <em>is</em> regretful at losing her temper like that. Then of course there’s always the chance that Oksana will tell someone and she’ll be fired and maybe arrested, but that in and of itself will not make her apologize. She’s not going to suck up to a student regardless of the possible consequences of her actions. If she apologizes, it will be for losing her temper, and that’s all.</p><p>When Oksana is still in class after everyone else has left, Eve prepares for the backlash. She leans against her desk, hands propped on the edge of it, and looks at the girl.</p><p>Before she can even decide whether to speak first or wait, Oksana is out of her desk and across the short distance, arms thrown around her too tightly to escape from, head buried in her chest.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” Oksana cries, and she won’t let go. Not ever.</p><p>Eve is overwhelmed by the act and the words, and the desperate sincerity in both. “I need you to let go of me,” she says gently, but Oksana doesn’t move. “If you’re really sorry, you’ll listen and respect me. Please let go.”</p><p>It hurts to let go. She doesn’t want to do it. She wants to hold tighter and disappear inside of her teacher. But she listens to Mrs. Polastri’s words and she knows she has to let go.</p><p>There are tears streaming down her cheeks as she steps back. “I’m sorry,” she says again, needing Eve to know she means it. “I’m so sorry.”</p><p>Eve melts a little despite herself and sighs. “I’m not sorry I spanked you, but I am sorry I lost my temper,” she offers a bit awkwardly.</p><p>Even after forty-five minutes, she’s still tender, and she reaches under her skirt to rub some of the marks. She doesn’t know what to say to that. She just rubs her arse and stares at Eve. She’s pretty sure there’s heat in her gaze, but she doesn’t know how to keep it out.</p><p>Eve wants to say something about the skirt, but not yet. First she has a question. “How do you feel about it?”</p><p>Oksana doesn’t follow, but she’s not trying that hard, really. “About what?”</p><p>“About me spanking you.”</p><p>Her hand drops to her side. “W—” She stops and stares some more. “It hurts?”</p><p>“I’m sure it does. But that’s not what I’m asking. I’m asking how you feel about it having happened, not about how it felt on your bottom.”</p><p>The way it hits her in the gut when Eve says the word ‘bottom’. “I don’t know,” she says in a rush. “I was—I was shocked, I didn’t think you’d ever really do it.”</p><p>“Neither did I, but I can only take so much,” Eve says pointedly.</p><p>Oksana’s face feels warm now and she averts her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she says again.</p><p>Eve nods. “If you tell your uncle, I’ll understand. Or the office, or the police. Whoever you want to tell.”</p><p>Oksana resists the urge to hug her again; her hands twitch at her sides. “No, you’d be fired. I don’t want that.”</p><p>Eve raises an eyebrow. “So then you’re okay with what happened?”</p><p>“Yes,” Oksana decides. “I didn’t like it, but I...” She fidgets and tilts her head back to stare at the ceiling, puffing out her cheeks. “But I deserved it.”</p><p>“That’s a mature attitude,” Eve says. “Do you know what isn’t mature, though?”</p><p>Oksana’s probably not going to like whatever it is. She bites her lip and waits.</p><p>“It isn’t mature to hem up your skirt. They’re regulation length for a reason, Oksana.” She crosses to the door, shuts it and locks it, just to make Oksana nervous. “Did you think I wouldn’t notice?”</p><p>Oksana’s palms start to sweat when the lock clicks and her eyes track Eve’s every movement. She’s not going to... is she? “I wanted you to notice,” she confesses, “but for me not to be able to do anything about it once you did notice. I won’t do it again. I’ll unhem it tonight.”</p><p>Eve walks to the desk and crooks her finger at the girl.</p><p>Oksana’s throat is suddenly dry as parchment paper. She swallows, painfully, and shakes her head. “Wait... you can’t... that’s not...”</p><p>“Come here,” Eve says, and she’s thrilled that’s all it takes to get the girl moving. Oksana’s standing in front of her, trembling. “Bend over.”</p><p>Oksana feels like she might cry again, but she wants to obey Eve; wants to show she’s sorry and that she’s mature and can handle the fallout of her actions. So she’s shaking, but she bends over the desk and reaches across to grab the other edge.</p><p>Eve flips up her skirt and smacks her bottom once, then flips the skirt back down. “Fix it over the weekend. Don’t do it again.”</p><p>Oksana yelps even at the one smack, and by the time she realizes she’s just felt Mrs. Polastri’s actual palm on her bottom she’s already being ushered out the door.</p><p>“Behave yourself. I’ll see you on Monday.”</p><p>She turns and throws her arms around Eve again. “Thank you,” she whispers, and then she lets go before she can be scolded, hurrying down the hall toward the office.</p><p>Eve frowns at the second hug, but the thank you distracts her enough to keep her from commenting, and then the girl is gone down the corridor and she doesn’t know what to think.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Oksana joins volleyball and gets caught smoking.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>As soon as she gets home, Oksana locks herself in her bedroom and strips off her skirt, sitting on her bed to take out the thread she’d put in that morning. Once she has it unhemmed she throws out the thread and tosses the skirt into the laundry.</p><p>She catches sight of her backside in the mirror and turns her head to stare over her shoulder with wide eyes. Holy fuck. Her thighs have purplish stripes on them. She gasps as she runs a fingertip over one of the marks, then pulls down her panties to survey her bottom. She’s not sure why she’s disappointed that there are only a few faint red lines. Not sure why she wishes her bottom looked like her thighs. But she does. She trails her fingers back and forth, then bends over her bed and imagines Mrs. Polastri spanking her again while she buries a hand between her legs.</p><p>She stops right before she comes and whines into her comforter, letting the frustration roll through her and settle in the pit of her stomach. She isn’t going to come unless Mrs. Polastri tells her she can.</p><p>She pulls up her panties and rubs a hand over her bottom, then pulls on some pants and heads out of her room to find something to eat.</p><p>***</p><p>Oksana is so excited to see Mrs. Polastri on Monday. She’s been waiting all weekend, bored and thinking of practically nothing else the whole day on Saturday, the whole night on Saturday night, the whole day on Sunday, and the whole night on Sunday night. Even when she hung out with Hugo on Saturday, she spent most of the time thinking about Mrs. Polastri bending her over the desk and spanking her on Friday, and she lost every game they played. He thought something was up because normally she is very competitive and gets angry if she loses, but on Saturday she hadn’t cared, so now Hugo is suspicious.</p><p>He is her best friend, though. She could probably tell him what she was thinking about, minus the being bent over the desk and spanked part, and he would understand. He would make fun of her, but in a best friend way. Maybe she’ll tell him next weekend.</p><p>Her uniform is one hundred percent regulation as she skips into history class ten minutes early and slides into her desk. “I fixed my skirt, Mrs. Polastri, first thing when I got home.”</p><p>Eve looks up from the paper she’s grading – not a very good one; not poignant like Oksana’s writing – and smiles. “I’m glad to hear it. No change of heart, then?”</p><p>“About the...?”</p><p>“Mhmm.”</p><p>“No.” She doesn’t share what <em>else</em> she did as soon as she got home. “Volleyball starts today, right?”</p><p>Eve presses so hard with her pencil that the tip of the graphite snaps off. “Yeah, after school,” she says casually even as her brain screams bloody murder. Can’t she catch a fucking break? Konstantin had told her Oksana hated sports. “Are you joining? I seem to remember your uncle mentioning the fact that you hate sports?”</p><p>“I hate choir more,” Oksana says, making a face. “You talked about me?” She isn’t sure whether she likes that or not. She decides she does. She wonders what else her uncle said. Maybe that she is very mature for her age? That when she is not forced to wear a school uniform she has impeccable fashion taste? That she is extremely smart and good at a lot of things? Or did he tell about her parents and how they didn’t really want her so they left her with him? About how she acted out for years until she realized he wasn’t going to leave her too? The thought of Eve knowing about her parents and her acting out makes her uncomfortable.</p><p>“Just a little bit, since you ended up in my class,” Eve says, still having to put in a gargantuan effort to stay casual.</p><p>“What did he say about me?” She tries to act like she doesn’t really care.</p><p>“Just that he’s glad you’re in my class and he wishes you would do more activities but you hate sports and you don’t like belonging to clubs. He said you would probably join the chess club if you didn’t mind belonging to clubs.”</p><p>“Do you play chess?” Oksana is distracted by the idea that maybe Mrs. Polastri would play chess with her some time.</p><p>“I’m not very good,” Eve says with a laugh. “And by not very good I mean a five-year-old child could probably beat me. Why don’t you like belonging to clubs?”</p><p>“I am very good at it because I am always thinking ten steps ahead,” Oksana says, and she’s disappointed when another student wanders in, but then she’s also not disappointed because it’s the perfect excuse to ignore the question about belonging.</p><p>Eve wonders if Oksana is still talking about chess, and sharpens her pencil so she can resume grading the subpar paper in front of her until the bell rings.</p><p>***</p><p>Oksana is in panic mode as she sits with a cold compress on her mouth in the nurse’s office. “I need to go!” she shouts. “I’m late for volleyball!”</p><p>“You’re not free to go yet,” the nurse says. “I need to wait for Mr. Vasiliev to excuse you.”</p><p>“But I didn’t do anything! Rhian hit me, I didn’t hit her first and I didn’t hit her back!”</p><p>“You’re not in trouble,” the nurse says. “I need him to excuse you because he’s your guardian. If you were another student, we’d have to wait for your guardian to arrive just the same.”</p><p>Oksana whines and holds the compress with one hand so she can text her uncle with the other.</p><p>
  <em>O: i am missing volleyball! please come excuse me from the nurse!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!</em>
</p><p>
  <em>UK: I am in meeting. I will be there soon.</em>
</p><p>It’s another ten agonizing minutes before he shows up, and the moment he clears her to leave she’s off like a shot, dropping the cold compress who-cares-where and running all the way to the gym. She bursts through the doors, quickly takes stock of the situation, and gets in line.</p><p>Eve had been relieved at first when Oksana didn’t show up, but the more time that ticked by the less relieved she’d felt. Then it had turned to disappointment, for some reason she doesn’t even want to contemplate. So when Oksana comes rushing through the doors, she doesn’t know how to feel. “We started a half hour ago,” she says before her brain can catch up with her mouth. “I don’t take late signups.”</p><p>Oksana feels tears threaten and she forces them down. “Please, Mrs. Polastri, I was in the office, you can ask Mr. Vasiliev! They wouldn’t let me go even when I told them I was going to be late for volleyball!”</p><p>Eve finally looks at her and when she sees the state of the girl’s face she balks. “Were you in a fight? That’s why you were in the office? I’m definitely not going to make an exception for fighting.”</p><p>“No!” Oksana shouts, and she gets out of line to run up to Mrs. Polastri, eyes pleading. “I got hit, but I didn’t hit back,” she says quietly, trying to keep her desperation under wraps but not being very successful. “Please, I didn’t hit her, she only hit me. You can ask my uncle, he’ll tell you... Please, I really want to be here.” If Mrs. Polastri doesn’t let her join volleyball because of Rhian... she doesn’t even want to think about what she’ll do to that little bitch.</p><p>“I don’t have time to ask him now. Go ahead and stay today, and I’ll ask him after practice.”</p><p>Oksana feels her chest expand with the breath of relief she sucks in. “Thank you!” She runs back and gets in line, watching everyone else to figure out what to do when it’s her turn.</p><p>Except she still doesn’t get it right when it’s her turn, and instead of hitting the ball over the net, she hits it sideways into the bleachers and cringes.</p><p>“It’s okay. Try again,” Eve says. “Keep your arm in a straight line when you draw it back, then do the same when you swing it forward.”</p><p>Nobody else got two turns and Oksana is embarrassed, but she does a little better the second time. She still misses the net, but it doesn’t go as far off to the side – at least it gets a bit of forward momentum. She runs to the back of the line so Eve doesn’t try to give her a third turn. Two is bad enough.</p><p>They keep doing that for a while, and Oksana learns it’s called serving. She should probably know that already since they’ve done volleyball in P.E. but she’s never paid attention, so it’s new information.</p><p>Eve keeps them practicing their serves one at a time for about half an hour, and by Oksana’s last turn she gets the ball to hit the very bottom of the net. It’s progress. At least it’s progress. “Okay, now we’re going to split up into partners and keep practicing for another half hour, and that’ll be it for today.”</p><p>Oh no, partners. No one ever wants to be Oksana’s partner in P.E. so this isn’t going to be any different. It’s like she can almost feel herself getting smaller and trying to disappear into a crack in the floor. Maybe if she turns invisible, this won’t be humiliating.</p><p>Eve sees Oksana shrink into herself and decides on the spur of the moment to assign partners instead of letting it be a popularity contest. “Adele, you’re with Oksana. Megan, you’re with Felicia. Alex, you’re with Joanne. Cindy, you’re with Heather.”</p><p>Oksana breathes a sigh of relief that at least they’re not choosing, but now she’s left with the knowledge that Adele will be disappointed to be assigned as her partner, and maybe that’s worse. Maybe she breathed that sigh of relief too soon. “Hi,” she says, picking up a ball and moving into position.</p><p>“Hi,” Adele says, and she doesn’t look particularly impressed.</p><p>Great start. “I’m not very good at this, but I—”</p><p>“We all saw,” Adele interrupts her.</p><p>“Right.” She feels her cheeks burn. She tries to shake it off and concentrate on the ball. She does her best attempt at a serve, but it goes sideways again and into the bleachers.</p><p>“I hope you’re quitting before the first game or we’ll be fucked. The coach has to play everyone, you know, for at least a quarter.”</p><p>Eve catches Adele’s words and snaps her head toward the girl. “Hey,” she barks. “Do you want to be on the volleyball team?”</p><p>“Yes,” Adele says, looking confused at the question. Either she doesn’t know Eve heard her or she doesn’t think that what she said is a problem.</p><p>“Then act like a teammate, not an asshole. We encourage each other, we don’t insult each other. If I hear one more thing like that you’re off the team before we even begin, you get me?”</p><p>Oksana is glad she’s retrieving the ball from the bleachers because her back is to everyone and it hides her reaction when Mrs. Polastri stands up for her. Basically she’s frozen with her mouth dropped open and her eyes wide. And then what’s happening on the inside... well... her heart is racing and her brain is spinning and she knows she’s getting wet but there is nothing she can do about it.</p><p>Adele stares at Eve. For at least thirty seconds. And just when Eve is about to show her the door, she deflates. “I get you,” she says, and now she actually looks a bit ashamed, which is good. “Sorry, Oksana.”</p><p>Oksana is still busy trying to breathe like a human being, but she hears the apology and makes herself turn around. “It’s okay. I know I suck,” she says, dragging her feet as she walks back over.</p><p>“Hey,” Eve barks again. “You do not suck. You just need practice. Come on; I’ll help you. Get ready.”</p><p>Oksana shakes her hair out of her face and holds the ball in her left hand, resting it on her upward-facing palm, and makes a fist with her right hand, turning her thumb to the ceiling. She’s about to swing back when she hears Eve step up behind her, and Eve’s hand rests gently under her left arm to stabilize it. She’s not prepared and her left hand jerks, sending the ball right into her busted lip. “Ahh!” she cries, clamping both hands over her mouth, feeling the blood drip down her chin and get all over her fingers.</p><p>“Oh my God,” Eve says, ushering Oksana toward the locker room. Holy shit. How can anyone be <em>that</em> bad at volleyball? It’s outrageous. “Just keep practicing; I’ll be back in a minute,” she tells the rest of the girls. “Adele, join another group.”</p><p>Oksana is focused on the pain in her face and the blood that’s getting everywhere. She’s not squeamish about blood in general, she just prefers it to be other people’s. When she realizes that Eve is fussing over her and wiping blood from her neck with a wet paper towel, she stumbles into the sink and gasps. Her hands fly from her mouth to the basin to stabilize herself, but they’re slippery with blood and it just makes things worse and she’s going to hit her head on the mirror and—wait, no, she’s not. Eve has grabbed her around the middle to keep her upright. “It’s hot—it’s warm. It’s very warm,” she manages to stutter. Eve’s arms are around her. She’s going to pass out.</p><p>“Oh God... I think you might have a concussion,” Eve says, making sure Oksana is steady before releasing her. “Come on. Let’s get you back to the nurse.”</p><p>Oksana can breathe again but she’s also disappointed that the touch is gone. She already misses the pressure of smooth palms on her belly. Mrs. Polastri hands her another wet paper towel and she holds it to her mouth as they walk to the office. She knows she doesn’t have a concussion, but it’s not like she’s going to admit why she got so suddenly warm. Not yet. Mrs. Polastri isn’t ready for that yet. “Thank you for taking care of me,” she says instead.</p><p>“Of course,” Eve says as if it’s no big deal. As if she hadn’t noticed Oksana’s reaction to her. As if it hadn’t been painfully obvious what was going through the girl’s head in the locker room.</p><p>She can’t dwell on it. She glossed it over when it happened and now she’s going to just forget it.</p><p>***</p><p>Except she doesn’t just forget it. She means to. She thinks she has. But when her vibrator is buried between her legs and she’s about to come, that gasp echoes in her ears and the image of Oksana kissing that girl in the bar flashes through her mind unbidden. “No,” she says, as if saying it aloud will banish the damning thoughts from her head. “No...”</p><p>She conjures up a stupid, rushed fantasy about Sarah Paulson right as she comes, and thank God for that. She’s not sure how she’d live with herself otherwise.</p><p>***</p><p>Oksana plays with herself slow, thinking of Eve. Eve’s face, Eve’s hair, Eve’s hands on her belly. She imagines them moving lower, touching between her legs, and a shiver runs through her entire body. It’s one of those shivers that actually makes you clench all your muscles and then stretch to get rid of it. She lets herself hover on the edge for a long time, always stopping before she comes, because she’s made herself a promise and she’s not going to break it.</p><p>She almost loses her resolve when she thinks about the spanking; almost pushes herself over into what she knows would have been a mind-blowing orgasm, but she forcibly turns onto her hands and knees to deny herself the friction and whines into her shoulder as the pleasure recedes.</p><p>Getting Mrs. Polastri to play the game is going to be so hard. But it’s so, so exciting. She hasn’t been this excited about anything in a really long time. Maybe she should focus on trying to get another spanking. But not too obviously. She doesn’t want Mrs. Polastri to know she wants it.</p><p>***</p><p>Eve isn’t sure what to expect when Oksana hangs around after class on Tuesday. There’s no volleyball until Thursday and she hasn’t passed back the Unit One essays yet so she doesn’t have a heads up about what the girl might want.</p><p>Oksana goes to the door, shuts it and locks it.</p><p>“Uh, no,” Eve says, shaking her head. She’s on her way to the door to unlock it when Oksana’s voice reaches her.</p><p>“Please? I want to talk about the spanking.”</p><p>Eve freezes in her tracks. This could go many ways, most of them bad. “What about it?” she asks, and she can’t help being wary. The hairs on the back of her neck go on end.</p><p>“I have a question,” Oksana says, and she walks back to her desk and sits down, pulling her knees up to her chest.</p><p>What in the hell could she possibly want to know about something that they’d already discussed and had happened last week? “Okay, what is it?” She tries not to sound impatient.</p><p>“Maybe it’s not that much of a question,” Oksana decides. “Maybe it’s just... I wanted to say...” Now that she’s actually speaking about it she’s a little embarrassed and her voice falters. This was a bad idea. She should’ve just misbehaved and hoped for the best. “Actually never mind. I’m sure you’re busy and I should go.”</p><p>Eve should really just let her leave. Really. But something about the embarrassed tint to the girl’s cheeks and the hesitant way Oksana’s talking just kind of ropes her in. She gentles her voice and her face. “It’s okay,” she finds herself offering. “You can tell me.”</p><p>Okay so maybe this wasn’t a bad idea, because now Mrs. Polastri is being gentle with her and she likes that just as much as she likes fiery Eve. “Well... no one’s ever done that to me before. It was, um... I mean it hurt, but... but I think it helped me.”</p><p>“Helped you?” Of all the things Oksana could have said, that one hadn’t even made the list.</p><p>“Helped me behave better,” Oksana clarifies. “Don’t you think it did?”</p><p>“Well yeah, that’s the point of it, but—”</p><p>“I think it did too,” Oksana interrupts. She doesn’t want to lose control of this narrative. “I’ve been slacking off on my homework lately and I wondered if you thought I should get spanked again.”</p><p>“What?” Eve doesn’t even try to navigate that one or pretend not to be thrown for a loop. “Are you kidding me? Are you fucking with me, Oksana? Because I am not amused.”</p><p>Eve thinks she’s joking? “No!” she says quickly. “I swear I’m serious. No one’s ever... I mean not like that... Uncle Konstantin just takes my things away, but I figure out how to manage. When you hauled me in here and paddled me, I couldn’t figure out how to manage. It’s the only time a punishment really made me think about what I’d done wrong. At first I didn’t understand why I wasn’t furious with you. I knew I should have been angry and told my uncle or the secretary or someone, but I wasn’t angry and I didn’t want to tell anyone. I didn’t want you to get in trouble for giving me what I deserved.”</p><p>Eve still isn’t sure she’s ready to believe that Oksana has stayed after school to tattle on herself about skipping homework and to see if she should get spanked. Oksana seems to be genuine, though, so she’ll at least play along enough to answer in the negative. “Well... if you really are serious, that’s a very mature attitude, but no, I don’t think you should get spanked again for slacking off on your homework. Just do your homework.”</p><p>“But what if I’d rather go see a movie or play chess with Hugo?”</p><p>“You have a brain in your head, don’t you? Free will? Make the responsible choice like you had been up until recently.”</p><p>Oksana is disappointed, but she has to admit that the chances of Eve spanking her again were very low. She sighs and gives a half-hearted nod. “All right, I’ll try,” she says as if it’s a huge burden, because right now it feels like it is.</p><p>Eve snorts her amusement and nods toward the door. “Go on. I’ll see you tomorrow.”</p><p>***</p><p>The next afternoon, Eve is on her way back into the building after lunch – she’d been running late and hadn’t had time to pack a lunch so she had to get takeout – when she chokes on her coffee. She honestly does a double take to make sure her eyes aren’t playing tricks on her, but no, they’re not. She’s actually seeing Oksana sat off campus with a group of what looks like college kids, a cigarette between her lips as she laughs and talks.</p><p>Smoking? <em>Smoking</em>? Of all the... She should kick the girl from the volleyball team. Experimenting with smoking is for thirteen-year-olds, not year 11 students.</p><p>Unless it’s not experimentation. Unless Oksana <em>actually</em> smokes. That would be worse. She hopes it’s just late experimentation. She almost changes course to intercept but changes her mind when she remembers she has her free period after lunch. So she settles behind her desk to finish her coffee and her unsatisfying croissant, and a few minutes into fifth period she calls the office and asks for Oksana to be sent to her room.</p><p>Oksana is just about to start on the daily algebra problem when one of the hall monitors comes into her classroom and speaks to the teacher.</p><p>“Oksana,” the teacher says, looking toward her. “Mrs. Polastri would like to see you in her classroom.”</p><p>“Now?” Oksana squeaks before she can stop herself from asking such an obvious question.</p><p>“I presume so,” the teacher says, peering at her over his glasses.</p><p>She is instantly nervous and excited. Maybe Mrs. Polastri wants to give her a reward for such an excellent Unit One essay. She knows she did well even though they haven’t been handed back yet. Maybe Eve is more willing to play the game than she’d first thought.</p><p>She gathers up her stuff just in case it’s a long visit and practically skips down the hall. She waves when she sees Mrs. Polastri in the doorway, but the closer she gets, the less she thinks this is about an excellent essay. Mrs. Polastri looks pissed, actually. But she hasn’t done anything!</p><p>Eve watches Oksana slow down on approach, and when the girl is within reach she grabs her by the elbow, drags her into the classroom, shuts the door and flicks the lock.</p><p>Oksana squeals in surprise but doesn’t fight the hold, goosebumps erupting up and down her arm because Eve is touching her bare skin. She gets lost in the feel for a second, memorizing everything she can about the touch of Eve’s fingers, but it’s over all too soon.</p><p>“Bend over the desk. Now,” Eve barks.</p><p>Oksana’s eyes pop and she drops her backpack, immediately moving to comply even as she asks, “why? What did I do? I turned in my homework this morning for all my classes and—”</p><p>“Quiet.”</p><p>She snaps her mouth shut and bends over, reaching across to hold the edge of the desk. Not that she’s upset, because she wanted this to happen yesterday after all, but she <em>would</em> like to know why. She hopes Eve will tell her. It’s hard to keep a good grip on the desk because her hands are clammy, and the spot where her belly presses into the wood feels really hot.</p><p>Eve takes a calming breath so she doesn’t start shouting about the stupidity of smoking, and tries to reason with herself as to why spanking Oksana for this is the correct way to handle it. But there’s no justifiable excuse that doesn’t have <em>because I want to</em> attached to the beginning or end of it. She feels like she’s in a free fall, but she flips up Oksana’s skirt and smacks her bottom.</p><p>Oksana’s lips part but no sound comes out. She expected to feel the ruler again but it’s Eve’s hand and she can’t breathe.</p><p>Mrs. Polastri spanks her again and again and again without saying anything and she has to know. “What did I do?” she blurts out, rushed and desperate.</p><p>Eve only then realizes she still hasn’t told Oksana why she’s in trouble. “What did you do? Do you recall what you were doing during lunch that definitely wasn’t eating?”</p><p>Oh God. Mrs. Polastri had seen her at lunch? Oh no. Oh, no, no. The smoking. “Please don’t tell my uncle!”</p><p>Eve lays into her, landing about a dozen more swats that make her hand sting before she pauses again. “What were you doing at lunch, Oksana Jolene?” She remembers the apology note and how Oksana wants a middle name. It seems fitting at this moment.</p><p>Oksana almost can’t speak at the name, and she squirms at the heat building in her backside. “Smoking,” she says, and it’s more of a whine than an answer.</p><p>“You’ve got two choices, and no matter which you pick, I’m still getting the ruler out.”</p><p>Oksana knows that isn’t supposed to thrill her, but it does. She liked the marks it left last time and she knows she’ll like to have more marks to look at and feel and think about. She presses her thighs together and rides out a tiny shudder, hoping it looks like fear. “I’m sorry,” she breathes out. “I won’t do it again.”</p><p>“Choice number one, I tell your uncle. Choice number two, you eat lunch in the hallway outside this door for the next two weeks so I know you’re not off campus smoking.”</p><p>“Choice two!” Oksana says in a hurry. That’s a no brainer. If she can avoid getting ratted out to Uncle Konstantin, she’ll happily stay on campus for lunch for two weeks. Plus, eating outside of Mrs. Polastri’s classroom isn’t much of a punishment.</p><p>“Don’t think that means you get to come in and bother me, either. You sit outside where I can see you, but you don’t get to chat me up. Understand?”</p><p>“Yes, Mrs. Polastri.”</p><p>Eve starts a little at that, unprepared for the rush of warmth it suffuses through her body, and she shakes it off, going around to retrieve the ruler from her desk drawer.</p><p>Oksana shudders at the sight of it. That ruler is quickly becoming a Pavlovian object. She’s so wet now with anticipation that she can hardly stand it. She knows it’s going to hurt; that she’s going to hate it during the paddling, but the thought of the stinging after-ache and the marks make it a hurt worth taking.</p><p>Eve smacks the ruler menacingly into her palm a few times before moving behind Oksana again. This time is not so frenzied. She takes a moment to think. How best to impart her lesson? She doesn’t want the girl smoking again, at least not any time soon. Maybe she should—<em>no, Eve. Don’t touch those panties</em>.</p><p>Frowning at herself, she slaps the ruler against Oksana’s thighs, just under the seam of her regulation underpants.</p><p>Oksana jumps. “Ow...”</p><p>Eve does it again. She likes the way it makes Oksana jump. She waits a second and does it <em>again</em>, with the same result. “I want you to regret smoking every time you sit down for the rest of the day,” she announces.</p><p>Oksana screws up her courage and asks for what she wants. What she needs. What she didn’t know she couldn’t live without until last Friday. “Are you going to pull my panties down, then? Because I can sit fine on bruised thighs.” Maybe it sounds sassy but she’s not adding any sass; it’s the words themselves that make it sound that way. “I didn’t mean for that to sound rude,” she breathes quickly after.</p><p>Eve drops the ruler, gutted. “I—w—I don’t think—” She bends down to pick up the ruler; straightens up to her full height as if that will help her get out of this situation untarnished.</p><p>Oksana notices how flustered her comment has just made Mrs. Polastri and she has to press her legs together tighter to quell the pressure between them. “It’s probably for the best,” she whispers. “I can do it if you’re not sure you should.”</p><p>“I shouldn’t,” Eve says automatically, since the opportunity presents itself. She doesn’t add anything else. She’s unhappy with herself that she hopes Oksana does it. But God, does she hope Oksana does it. She wants to stripe the girl’s ass a deep red.</p><p>“But I may?” Oksana checks. She doesn’t want to misstep.</p><p>Eve can’t say that. But she won’t deny it either. “I shouldn’t,” she says again, a little more deliberately.</p><p>Oksana’s breath comes in fast little pants because now she knows she’s not mis-stepping. Eve is playing the game. She lets go of the desk and pretends her hands aren’t shaking as she tucks her thumbs into the waistband of her panties and inches them down over her bottom, stopping at her knees. Then she re-takes the ready position and waits, heart hammering, pulse roaring in her ears like the ocean at high tide. She keeps her knees carefully together so Mrs. Polastri won’t see how wet her panties are. The air is cool on her backside and—does Mrs. Polastri like it? She won’t get any indication either way so she’ll just have to wonder.</p><p>Eve can’t linger in her appreciation of Oksana’s form. This is wrong already and that would make it more wrong. “Hold tight,” she says instead of any number of compliments that want to spew forth.</p><p>It’s different from last time, and not just because her panties are down. It’s less chaotic; more controlled, but it’s not any softer. The ruler bites into her skin with harsh abandon, licking a stripe of fire across her ass every time it lands. She can’t even hold still for five seconds; she starts squirming immediately.</p><p>“Oksana,” Eve says, voice stern. “Keep your body still or I’ll stop.” There’s no reason this can’t be a lesson in self-control in more ways than one.</p><p>Oksana gasps, cheeks hot, and she buries her face in her left arm, doubling her efforts to keep her hips stationary.</p><p>Many seconds and many smacks later, she realizes the implication of Mrs. Polastri’s words – that they both know she wants this – and a moan slips out from between parted lips to corrupt the air around them.</p><p>“Shut the fuck up,” Eve says in a rush before she thinks.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” Oksana whimpers.</p><p>“This can’t—we can’t—”</p><p>Oksana knows that she is about to lose the ground she’s gained and she’s desperate to hold onto it. “It’s not going to be easy to quit smoking,” she gushes.</p><p>Oksana’s words have the intended effect because all Eve can think about now is blistering her ass. “You’ve already quit,” she snaps, and the ruler zaps Oksana’s bottom like lightning. “Now it’s three weeks of lunches in the hallway. You won’t pick up another cigarette, Oksana, or so help me...” She shakes her head and just concentrates on lighting a fire that won’t dull for hours.</p><p>Oksana yelps at the renewed barrage of slaps on her already slightly tender backside. She holds the desk tighter and presses her hips into the edge to keep still, and bites her lip to keep from talking. Anything she says at this point is either going to piss Mrs. Polastri off or get her kicked out of the room without finishing her spanking.</p><p>She gets more and more tender, then sore, then her skin is stinging like wildfire and Eve keeps hitting the same spot over and over and over, right against the curve of her bottom where she’ll sit, which is obviously far from arbitrary and actually quite calculated, and—“Fuck!” she shouts when she feels Mrs. Polastri’s hand again, harder than the ruler, and despite her uncanny level of arousal, she’s crying. It really hurts. She knows she will love it later, but right now it just hurts so bad. It burns and stings and throbs and feels swollen and raw. She watches a few tears splash onto the cool, grounding wood of the desk and tries not to beg for it to stop. She wants her marks, and she wants a lot of them. She wants red and purple, both. She wants to fuck herself tonight while she thinks about this and she wants Mrs. Polastri’s permission to come.</p><p>Eve takes up the ruler again. She’s more worked up than she’d like to be, but she doesn’t stop until Oksana’s little sniffles turn to obvious, heaving cries and the girl’s bottom and thighs are criss-crossed varying shades of red and purple. She likes the contrast of sharp and dull; bright and muted; parallel and diagonal.</p><p>Oksana isn’t even bothering to fend off her tears at this point, she just lets them come. And she’s genuinely regretful about accepting that cigarette from Bobby. “I don’t really smoke!” she finally sobs. “It’s only the second time in two years!” She’s throbbing so badly in so many places she can’t even sort them all out. She barely registers when the ruler stops falling.</p><p>Eve slides the ruler across the desk and stares down at the crying girl. “You said it was going to be hard to quit smoking. What do you mean you don’t really smoke?”</p><p>Oksana keeps crying because she can’t stop now that she’s started, and she hurts so much, but it’s so overwhelmingly arousing that she doesn’t know what to do with herself. “You were going to stop paddling me,” she explains on a shaky exhale in between sobs.</p><p>“So you lied?”</p><p>She’d better just fess up without making excuses. “Yes!”</p><p>Eve doesn’t quite know what to do with that. She files it away for later and tries to decide how to proceed. Oksana is a fucking mess, so what is she supposed to do now? Offer comfort? That’s not very appropriate, especially given the fact that this entire scenario is already inappropriate. “I guess that’s better news than if you really would’ve had a hard time quitting,” she admits for lack of a better response.</p><p>Oksana doesn’t think that requires a response so she just focuses on trying to compose herself. “Can I p—my p—my panties—”</p><p>“Go ahead,” Eve says, putting some distance between them. She walks around the desk and places the ruler back into the drawer, shuts it, and takes a seat in her chair to avoid the urge to physically comfort Oksana.</p><p>Her hands tremble as she pulls up her panties and she gives an anguished cry as the material slides over her punished bottom. Eve lets her lay there until she’s calmed, and she’s grateful not to be rushed, because this is hard. It’s hard for so many reasons. It’s hard because she wants to kiss Mrs. Polastri. It’s hard because it hurts to move or even breathe. It’s hard because she needs to touch herself so badly. “Mrs. Polastri,” she says when she can finally make herself speak. Her voice is dry and scratchy. It’s almost hoarse.</p><p>“Yeah?” Eve asks, her best attempt at casual while in fact she’s anything but. She’s basically panicking. Internally, though, because Oksana doesn’t need to see that.</p><p>“I promised myself something and I don’t want to break my promise, so I need—I need you to tell me it’s okay to do.”</p><p>“To tell you what’s okay to do?”</p><p>“Please just tell me it’s okay,” Oksana begs. She doesn’t want to say it because she knows Mrs. Polastri won’t level up yet.</p><p>“I’m not telling you something is okay if I don’t know what it is,” Eve says, logical, rational thought returning. “It might not actually be okay and I don’t want the responsibility of having told you it is if it isn’t.”</p><p>Oksana groans, because only Eve would say something so ridiculous. So now she can either go home and not come even though she really wants to or she can risk ending the game on a technical foul by advancing too early.</p><p>Except oh God because she can’t go home, it’s the fucking middle of fifth period! “Do I have to go back to classes after this?”</p><p>Eve snorts. “What do you think, smoky?”</p><p>Oksana feels her face go hot as she carefully lifts herself to stand. Embarrassment is forgotten, however, because when she straightens up, her ass hurts too much to remember to be embarrassed about anything at all. “Oh my God,” she complains. “Mrs. Polastri, please... it hurts so bad, there’s no way I can sit through classes.”</p><p>“Then you can stand in the back. You’re dismissed.”</p><p>Oksana picks up her backpack and walks with multiple winces to the doorway. She looks back, words on the tip of her tongue about permission to come tonight, but ends up chickening out and just shaking her head as she unlocks the door and heads back to fifth period.</p>
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<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Well... she had been going to head back to fifth period, but there’s only fifteen minutes left until the bell so she ducks into the closest bathroom instead. She locks herself in a stall and hangs up her backpack, then puts her forehead against the canvas material and just breathes.</p><p>Holy fucking shit. Eve had thrashed her... like properly thrashed the fuck out of her. Her ass is throbbing and stinging and she knows there’ll be marks and it excites her so much she can hardly stand the fact that she has to finish the school day. She’d skip if it wouldn’t get her car taken away.</p><p>She realizes her hand has drifted toward her skirt and she’s about to stop herself, but... what can it hurt, really? She’s got fifteen minutes until the bell and for the moment she’s alone in here. And even if someone else comes in, they won’t know what she’s doing if she’s quiet. She’s not sure she can come standing up, but—oh, wait. She still hasn’t asked for permission so she won’t be coming anyway.</p><p>She moves her panties aside and pushes two fingers into herself, and she’s had a lot of sex but she still feels <em>full</em> with two fingers. They go in easy because she’s so wet and she bites down on her other hand to keep quiet when she hits her favorite spot. She decides to steer clear of that spot for today. She angles her fingers the other way and starts to slowly slide them in and out. Her movements are lazy and indulgent, and she just does that for a few minutes, her forehead still pressed to her backpack.</p><p>The door to the bathroom opens but she ignores it... until there’s a rap on the stall door and she freezes.</p><p>“Open the door.”</p><p>Oh, <em>fuck</em>. It’s Mrs. Polastri. “Just a second, I’m peeing,” she lies, carefully extracting her hand from between her legs and fixing her panties.</p><p>“For the last ten minutes? I don’t think so. Open the door, Oksana,” Eve repeats. “Now.”</p><p>Oksana opens the door, flushed in the face and trying not to look sheepish. She squeaks when Mrs. Polastri blocks her way out.</p><p>Eve leans closer, keeping her voice low in case anyone else comes in. “You just got your ass paddled and the first thing you’re going to do is skip the rest of fifth period after I told you to go back to class?”</p><p>Oksana’s heart is pounding so hard her chest hurts. She’s sweating and turned on and still wet and a little bit scared at the look on Mrs. Polastri’s face. “I’m sorry, it just h—”</p><p>“What were you doing?” Eve interrupts.</p><p>“I thought I could work on some homew—”</p><p>“Don’t lie to me,” Eve interrupts again. “What were you doing?”</p><p>Oh God, oh God, oh God... her face is so hot it has to be bright red and she never thought she’d be embarrassed to have been masturbating, but now suddenly she is because she has to tell Mrs. Polastri what she was doing, and she just isn’t <em>ready</em> so it’s <em>awful</em>. She wanted to be calm, cool and collected when this subject finally came up, and <em>she</em> wanted to be the one to bring it up. Her voice is a wispy, broken thing when she finally answers. “I was touching myself.”</p><p>“You were w—” Eve’s eyes go wide and she realizes in that instant that she’s set herself up for this. She should’ve known exactly what Oksana was doing and she shouldn’t have asked, but somehow the possibility that the girl was masturbating in the school bathroom hadn’t crossed her mind. “Jesus fucking Christ, Oksana,” she sighs, running a hand through her hair and looking away. “Just g—just get to class.” She moves out of the way and lets Oksana leave.</p><p>Oksana is off like a shot, no idea how she’s supposed to face Mrs. Polastri in seventh period.</p><p>***</p><p>She makes it through sixth period because thank God they’re doing lab work in science this week, so she gets to stand up for the entire class without drawing undue attention to herself. Seventh period, though... she has a feeling Mrs. Polastri is going to make her sit. “Can I—”</p><p>“Have a seat.”</p><p>She’s not wrong. She grimaces as she slides ever so carefully into her chair. Even with being careful, it hurts like a son of a bitch and she sucks in a loud breath, closing her eyes while the pain settles into something manageable.</p><p>“All right,” Eve says once the bell rings. “Mesopotamia. One of the first civilizations. They developed a system of writing called cuneiform. Do any of you know what that is?”</p><p>Hugo raises his hand.</p><p>“Hugo, yes?”</p><p>“Didn’t they carve pictures into stone or clay or something?”</p><p>“Yes,” Eve says, pointing at him. “Clay tablets. They made impressions in clay tablets, then baked them so they’d last longer.”</p><p>“Are we going to do that?”</p><p>It’s a girl in the back row called Anya who rarely speaks, and Eve loves how excited she sounds at the prospect. “We are.”</p><p>“Yes!” Anya says, and it makes Eve smile.</p><p>“Come and collect your tablets and reference sheets.”</p><p>***</p><p>It’s very hard for Oksana to hold still even though she’s focused on writing cuneiform. It’s a very relaxing activity and she enjoys it a lot, but her bottom hurts so badly she can’t help squirming in her seat in an effort to find some relief. There’s only about five minutes left of class now, and Oksana gasps when she feels a hand on her shoulder, snapping her head up. “Mrs. Polastri.”</p><p>“I don’t know what the problem is,” Eve says loud enough for the students around Oksana to hear, “but please stop moving around. It’s very distracting.”</p><p>Oksana’s jaw drops because Mrs. Polastri knows <em>exactly</em> what the problem is, and her teacher sounds so stern, and oh God, now she’s wet again and she has to press her thighs together and she has no idea what she’s writing next on her clay tablet.</p><p>Eve smirks as she walks away, because if Oksana can’t handle the heat, she shouldn’t have lit the fire.</p><p>Oksana stays after the bell, which is no surprise to either of them by now; it’s almost habit.</p><p>“Do I need to lock the door for this conversation?” Eve asks with sarcastic flair.</p><p>But Oksana is serious when she nods. “Yes. Please.”</p><p>Eve raises an eyebrow but strides to the door and locks it, then leans against it. “Getting yourself spanked is no excuse for squirming around in your chair the entire class. If you can’t sit still on a sore bottom then don’t misbehave.”</p><p><em>Fuck</em>. Mrs. Polastri is just making it worse. Her cunt is throbbing. “I need permission,” she begs straight away.</p><p>“Permission for what?”</p><p>“Permission to come,” she says before she can talk herself out of it, because she really needs to come.</p><p><em>What in the fuck</em>? “You can’t talk to me like that,” Eve says, pushing off of the door and going behind her desk to sit.</p><p>Oksana is desperate. “Please, Mrs. Polastri. I promised myself I wouldn’t come without your permission and I really need to come...”</p><p>“Stop! Now!” Eve shouts, her face hot and her chest tight. “Go home!” She gets up again and paces to the door, unlocking and opening it to forestall any argument. She needs Oksana out of this room in the next five seconds. “Go!”</p><p>Oksana gets shakily to her feet, tears welled up in her eyes, and she stops at the door to look pleadingly at her teacher one last time. She feels vulnerable; laid bare, and she needs Mrs. Polastri’s permission to come more than she’s ever needed anything in her life. “Please, I’ve been good,” she breathes.</p><p>Eve’s voice breaks. “I need you to go,” she chokes out, pulling the door open further. “You can’t ask that of me. You’re my student. Go, Oksana.” She gives Oksana a little shove out the door when it’s clear the girl won’t be leaving on her own, and then quickly shuts and locks the door. Jesus fucking Christ.</p><p>***</p><p>Oksana is angry. She knows that the underlying reason is that she’s hurt, but knowing that doesn’t make her able to be any less angry.</p><p>She stops at a quickie mart on the way home and swipes a pack of cigarettes when the clerk’s back is turned. She doesn’t enjoy smoking either of the two she blows through during the drive from the store to the house. But she smokes a third before she gets out of the car and leaves the pack on the passenger’s seat because she needs to feel like she’s in control of <em>something</em>.</p><p>***</p><p>“Stop,” Eve groans. “I shouldn’t have told you.”</p><p>“Oh, my God, Eve,” Bill says, wiping tears from his eyes. “Of course you should’ve told me. You’re bloody useless, aren’t you? Why didn’t you just tell the girl she could come?”</p><p>“About a million reasons?” Eve shrieks. “I know you’re just messing with me. You couldn’t possibly be encouraging me to cross a line with a student.”</p><p>“Which line would that be... bending her over your desk and thrashing her? Letting her take her panties down? Asking her what she was doing hiding in a bathroom stall when there was only one thing she could’ve been doing? Is it any of those lines I’m encouraging you to cross?”</p><p>“Fuck you,” Eve says, and she’s groaning again, because of course he’s right. She’s crossed plenty of lines all by herself, thanks.</p><p>“Listen,” Bill says, and he sounds serious now so Eve listens. “She obviously needs guidance and she’s looking to you for it. If you reject her... she could end up putting her trust in someone who’d abuse it.”</p><p>“What? No. I don’t think—” But what if? What if he’s right, and what if Oksana does? What if she goes to that bar and picks up some stranger and ends up getting hurt? She could tell Konstantin about the fake ID to keep Oksana out of the bar, but that wouldn’t keep her out of bowling alleys or coffee shops or gas stations or anywhere else she can meet someone. Shit.</p><p>The look on Bill’s face tells Eve that he knows he’s won, and she hates that. She must be clenching her teeth because he sighs. “Relax, will you? It’s not even like you’ll be fucking the girl. You’re just telling her she can fuck herself.”</p><p>“Bill!” She puts her hands over her burning face just as a knock comes on the door. “My food’s here,” she says. “So I have to go, thank God.” And she shuts the laptop.</p><p>She sits and eats her pizza in the living room with the TV on, but she’s not really watching it. She’s thinking.</p><p>And thinking.</p><p>And thinking.</p><p>She can’t let Oksana fall into some predator’s lair, right? Except just <em>entertaining</em> the idea of giving in makes her feel like a predator herself.</p><p>She has to do it, though. She’ll just keep it as low key as she possibly can.</p><p>***</p><p>Oksana doesn’t want to see Mrs. Polastri, but she doesn’t want her uncle to find out about the smoking, either, so she goes to sit outside the classroom for lunch... she just sits the absolute furthest away from the door without being out of sight.</p><p>Eve knows Oksana is hurt. She knows that’s why the girl is sitting as far away as she can. She doesn’t want Oksana hurt... that’s the whole reason she’s giving in. She pops her head into the corridor and calls Oksana in. “I need to speak with you.”</p><p>Oksana freezes with a bite of sandwich half chewed and stares. She really doesn’t want to have whatever conversation this is going to be. But she doesn’t have a choice, does she? She sighs and finishes chewing and gets up, shoving the rest of her sandwich back into her lunch bag and shoving the lunch bag into her backpack. She steels herself for embarrassment and marches into the classroom, and her backside is still sore when she sits down, but it’s not as exciting this time. She instantly starts chewing one of her fingernails and when she notices she forces it out of her mouth and tucks her hands in her lap. She watches as Mrs. Polastri shuts and locks the door, her nerves growing with every second. By the time her teacher is standing in front of her desk, she’s almost squirming in her seat.</p><p>“I’ve had time to think about your request,” Eve says, watching Oksana carefully.</p><p>Oksana’s stomach tries to claw its way out through her skin. She’s so tense it hurts. Why does Mrs. Polastri want to talk about this? It was bad enough yesterday. “You already—”</p><p>“Do not interrupt me,” Eve snaps, pointing a finger at her. “Sit and be quiet.”</p><p>Oksana’s eyes widen and she shuts her mouth, even if it falls open again as she stares.</p><p>Eve starts over. “I’ve had time to think about your request.” She still watches Oksana carefully. This time she’s not interrupted. “And the answer is no.”</p><p>Oksana’s breath leaves her with a whoosh that she can actually hear. Her face is hot and her hands are clammy, her stomach is twisty now as well as tense, and she’s pulsing between her legs. Is she interpreting that right? Is Mrs. Polastri leveling up? She doesn’t dare ask and get reprimanded for interrupting again. So she stares, breathing hard, and waits.</p><p>“If you want my permission... you’ll have to earn it.”</p><p>It’s really hot and Oksana wants to loosen her tie because she feels like she’s choking. “Wha—w—”</p><p>“Quiet!” Eve says, slamming her hand down on the girl’s desk and delighting in the startled jump she gets in return. “You’ll have to earn it by behaving. That means no skipping class. It means no acting up in any of your classes. It means no more smoking. It means—”</p><p>“I already told you I don’t smoke!” Oksana blurts out before she can stop herself. She cringes at the look on Mrs. Polastri’s face.</p><p>“Okay, it also means no more lying,” Eve says, folding her arms over her chest.</p><p>“I’m not lying,” Oksana says, brows furrowing. “I don’t smoke.”</p><p>Eve can’t help being a bit incredulous. “So there’s another student at this school driving a Lamborghini with a pack of opened cigarettes on the passenger seat?”</p><p>Fuck. Fuuuckkkk. “No, that’s—”</p><p>“There’s twenty minutes left of lunch. Go stand in the corner until the bell rings and we’ll continue this discussion after seventh period. I suggest you take the time to think about how to better cover your tracks in the future... or you can just decide to start being honest with me.”</p><p>“Stand in the—what?” Oksana asks, cheeks burning. She stays firmly planted in her seat. She’s not expecting Mrs. Polastri to grab her, though, so she’s easy to manhandle to her feet. But when the grip on her arm is tugging her toward the corner, she digs in her heels. “I’m not standing in the corner like some bible beater!” she shouts.</p><p>When Mrs. Polastri switches directions toward the big teacher’s desk, Oksana changes her mind and scurries to the nearest corner.</p><p>“No! I’ll stand here. God.”</p><p>“And lose the attitude,” Eve says. She grabs the ruler out of her desk and sits in her chair, rolling it over so she can reach Oksana if she needs to. “Put your hands behind you and make a diamond with your fingers on your lower back, and don’t move.”</p><p>Oksana is wet and miserable and embarrassed and excited. She puts her hands the way Mrs. Polastri tells her to and breathes in and out as steadily as she can, but she’s a mess. Her heart is racing. Her pulse is rushing in her ears. Her pussy is throbbing. All she can think about is how it feels to stand in the corner like a little girl. The wall smells faintly of paint. Maybe they painted the classroom over the summer since a new teacher was coming. The paint is boring, though, it’s just plain white semi-gloss. She searches for imperfections and gets tired of holding her hands like a diamond and relaxes them, then makes fists and flexes her fingers. As soon as she flexes she feels a sharp slap across her palms and jumps with a yelp. Mrs. Polastri has just struck her hands with the fucking ruler?!</p><p>She puts her hands back into position and bites her lip. It stings. Her palms sting. But it’s so fucking hot she can hardly stand it. Her panties are soaked. She wants Mrs. Polastri so badly... but she stands perfectly still and keeps her hands in position until the bell rings. Even after the bell rings. She stands and waits for permission to move.</p><p>Eve keeps a careful eye but Oksana doesn’t move again for the rest of the time. She expects a hasty retreat at the bell... and when Oksana doesn’t even flinch... Eve feels something. Something dangerous. She puts it away along with the ruler and clears her throat. “Get to class.”</p><p>Oksana breathes and comes out of the corner to get her backpack, and she pauses at the door to look over her shoulder at her teacher. “I’m sorry about the cigarettes. I was... I was hurt and I made a bad decision. I’ll throw the pack out today, I promise, and I won’t do it again.”</p><p>Eve crosses to the door and unlocks it for her, pausing with her hand on the knob. “I didn’t mean to hurt you,” she says quietly. “I don’t want that.”</p><p>Oksana’s chest fills up with something she can’t identify. She just knows it’s something good. “I—” There’s so much she can say. Too much. And she doesn’t want to say too much, so she says very little. “Thank you.” She does let a smile through because she doesn’t want Mrs. Polastri to think she’s upset about any of it, she just doesn’t start gushing out everything she feels.</p><p>Eve breathes a sigh of relief at the positive reaction and nods, opening the door. “See you in seventh period.”</p><p>Oksana’s palms still sting as she basically skips down the hall to class.</p><p>***</p><p>After the last bell rings and all of the students except Oksana have shuffled out the door, Eve shuts it and locks it. “Are you ready to finish our conversation without interrupting me or are we calling it off?”</p><p>Oksana grips her skirt until her knuckles hurt and nods once. “I’m ready,” is all she says.</p><p>“Right. You have to earn it by going to all of your classes, getting no reports of acting up, no more smoking, no more lying, keep getting your homework done on time like you have been, and if you really want to be on the volleyball team I want you practicing for half an hour at home every day. I’ll be asking your uncle to make sure you’ve done it, so don’t get any ideas.”</p><p>Oksana keeps squeezing her skirt and nods her head again when she’s sure Mrs. Polastri is finished. “I will do all of those things. How long do I have to do them for?”</p><p>“Until I’m satisfied they’ve become good habits.”</p><p>Cringe. That could be forever. “Can I just say one thing, though? It’s really important to me.”</p><p>Eve purses her lips but finally nods. “Go ahead.”</p><p>“I just want you to know that I didn’t lie on purpose about the smoking. I really don’t smoke and I wasn’t thinking about the ones I smoked yesterday. I mean I know it was a lie, but it wasn’t deliberate, I just forgot.”</p><p>Eve can see how important it is to Oksana to have the distinction acknowledged, so she does. “I believe you. Thank you for telling me. Now get out of here; I’ll see you at practice.”</p><p>Oksana gets to her feet and clutches her backpack to her chest, as if it holds all of life’s secrets. “Can I give you a hug?”</p><p>“No,” Eve says immediately. “You are not allowed to touch me, ever. It can’t happen, you understand that, right? It’s not—it’s not because I don’t—it’s because you’re my—you’re just sixteen, Oksana...”</p><p>“Sixteen is legal,” Oksana reminds her sheepishly, but she relents and heads for the door, her cheeks hot. “And I’ve had sex loads of times just so you know,” she blurts out as she unlocks the door and darts into the hallway. She doesn’t want Mrs. Polastri thinking she’s a virgin.</p><p>Eve gapes at the open door and puts her hands over her face. She is so screwed.</p>
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<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>It's a relatively short chapter, but I think you'll all like it....................</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It’s been a month. A fucking month, and Oksana has done everything she’s supposed to have been doing and she hasn’t done anything that she’s not supposed to have been doing. She hasn’t touched cigarettes. She hasn’t acted up or skipped any classes. She’s turned in all her homework, and on time. She’s practiced volleyball for a half-hour every day. She hasn’t lied about anything. She gives Mrs. Polastri a report every single school day, and every single school day, all Mrs. Polastri says is <em>good job</em>, or sometimes <em>well done</em>. That’s it. Two words she gets in return for all her hard work and good behavior. And did she mention it’s been a month? She’s not even sure she remembers what it feels like to have an orgasm. She is getting a lot better at volleyball, though.</p><p>Today is Monday, and when the bell rings after seventh period, Oksana decides she’s not going to give Mrs. Polastri any more reports. She’ll keep doing what she’s meant to be doing, but she won’t bother speaking to her teacher about it anymore. It’s just futile and frustrating and makes her want to rip her hair out or to put her fist through a window just to <em>feel</em> something other than frustration. She’s never behaved so well for so long without anything in return, and she’s starting to think that Mrs. Polastri is never going to give her permission to come and is just using the motivation as a lure to get her to behave.</p><p>That thought takes root and sours her mood considerably. Is Eve just manipulating her? Fuck. She hopes not. That would be… the worst.</p><p>No. There’s no way. Mrs. Polastri is a lot of things, but she’s not manipulative. And she wouldn’t betray Oksana’s trust like that, there’s just no way. God, Eve’s hair looks good today. It’s especially wild.</p><p>Another horrible thought slithers into her consciousness and her eyes go wide as she stares at her teacher. Is her hair messy like that because she didn’t have time to fix it this morning? Was she with someone last night?</p><p>Oksana’s palms are clammy and her heart is racing, and all of these thoughts have flitted through her mind in the last thirty seconds, but they’re so powerful she can’t think of anything else and she’s about to start crying right there at her desk.</p><p>Everyone else is leaving, and rather than stay behind like she always does, Oksana shoves her stuff roughly into her backpack and rushes out the door with the rest of the class.</p><p>She doesn’t get very far.</p><p>“Oksana, can I see you a minute?”</p><p>Eve’s voice stops her in her tracks and she wipes her sweaty hands on her skirt, taking a breath and willing the tears away from her eyes before she turns back and does as she’s asked.</p><p>Eve isn’t sure what’s going on or why Oksana rushed out of class, but it’s strange and different and she doesn’t like it. It’s not the routine.</p><p>When the room is empty but for the two of them, Eve shuts and locks the door. “No behavior report?”</p><p>Oksana shrugs and slips into her seat, letting her backpack fall from her shoulder and to the floor with a thud.</p><p>“Is it a bad report?” Eve asks carefully. “I haven’t noticed any misbehavior.”</p><p>“You haven’t noticed anything,” Oksana says off the cuff, regretting it as soon as the words leave her mouth. She should have thought it through first and not revealed all her cards at once. Now Eve would have the advantage.</p><p>Suddenly, Eve understands the problem. She hasn’t given Oksana enough attention for her good behavior and the girl feels neglected. That isn’t her intention, she simply doesn’t want to capitulate too soon, but maybe a month is pushing it too far. Maybe Oksana can’t go that long without her reward. Eve wants to push it for as long as she can get away with, but she’s obviously on the verge of ruining the entire agreement.</p><p>And there are tears in Oksana’s eyes that pull at her chest, because the girl <em>has</em> been impeccably behaved, and now Eve just wants to comfort her. She has to be careful, but she needs to sort things out. So she walks slowly over to Oksana’s desk and uses the back of one finger to lift the hair off the girl’s face and tuck it behind a blushing ear. “I have noticed,” she says softly.</p><p>Oksana short circuits before Mrs. Polastri even touches her, and at the brush of contact she freezes, her muscles tight, a shudder ripping through her. A hushed moan leaves her lips and before her brain catches up with her body she’s shot a hand up to grab Eve’s wrist and turns her head like lightning to inhale the scent of perfume from the underside of it.</p><p>She lets go before she can be told to, and leans her forehead against the cool wood of her desk. “Did you have company last night?”</p><p>Eve’s wrist burns and she absently rubs it with her other hand as she considers the question, trying to unscramble the words amid the heat rushing through her body. “What?” she finally utters.</p><p>“Your hair is a mess and you’re wearing perfume,” Oksana whispers. “You had company?”</p><p>Eve can’t help it, she tugs on the back of Oksana’s collar to get her to pick her head up. It’s dangerous. She wants the control. She doesn’t want to cross the line but she wants the control. “My hair is a mess because I stayed up late grading Unit Three tests and didn’t have time to shower this morning… which is also the reason I’m wearing a little bit of perfume.” Her hand is shaking as she hooks a gentle finger under Oksana’s chin and urges the girl’s head up further to look her in the eye. “But you don’t get to ask me those questions. I’m your teacher,” she adds, clearly and pointedly, but her voice is just as gentle as her touch. “Understand?”</p><p>Oksana’s breath leaves her entirely at first and refuses to return, her heart hammering against her ribs double time. She stares at Eve, her skin on fire, and when her breath does return, it’s shallow and fast. She curls her hands around the edge of her desk. She can’t speak. When she swallows, it’s like sandpaper. Her throat is so dry. Her stomach is twisted in knots, and she can’t even identify the sensation lower in her abdomen. She’s on a razor’s edge, attuned to every shift in the very air around them. Time seems to freeze and fly in the same instant. It’s all she can do to keep breathing.</p><p>Eve knows it’s wrong.</p><p>But is it? Legally, it’s not. Ethically, though, she thinks it is.</p><p>She does it anyway. “I asked you a question, Oksana.” Her voice gains some grit. She squeezes the girl’s chin… then watches in fascinated horror as Oksana slides out of her desk and onto her knees. Oh, fuck.</p><p>“Yes, Mrs. Polastri.” Oksana’s voice is a shadow of itself and she shuffles forward on her knees, reaching out a trembling hand to briefly touch the fabric of Eve’s pants with the tips of her fingers. She withdraws her hand almost immediately and makes a fist at her side. She can still barely breathe.</p><p>Eve wants to tell her to get up. Wants to scream at her to get up. She opens her mouth to do it and something else entirely comes tumbling out. “Give me your behavior report.”</p><p>“I ca—I can’t—” Oksana shudders hard and regroups, trying again fresh. She <em>can</em> do this. This is what she wants, after all, and she needs to show Eve that she can handle it. “I turned in my homework.” She sucks in a desperate breath. “I practiced volleyball for a half-hour yesterday.” She pauses to unclench and clench her fist. “I—I haven’t smoked or lied.” She stops and shuffles even closer, but keeps her hands to herself.</p><p>Eve raises an eyebrow when nothing else seems to be forthcoming. “Have you acted up in any of your classes?”</p><p>Oksana exhales sharply. “No, Mrs. Polastri.”</p><p>“Have you skipped any classes?”</p><p>“No, Mrs. Polastri.”</p><p>“I’m sorry I haven’t given you enough attention.” It comes out of nowhere.</p><p>Oksana gasps, her chest filling with a different kind of warmth. “It—it’s okay,” she stammers, not sure what else to say.</p><p>“I don’t want you looking for attention elsewhere, like the bar, for example,” Eve continues the descent to hell. “It’s dangerous and you could be taken advantage of.”</p><p>Oksana thinks she’s more likely to be the one taking advantage, but she wisely doesn’t say it. “I won’t, Mrs. Polastri.” She doesn’t want anyone else’s attention. Is Eve crazy?</p><p>“Good.” Eve steps back and takes a slow breath, then walks away to sit behind her desk, putting some protection between them for what she’s going to say next. “You may come tonight, once and only once, and I want behavior reports every day like you have been giving me. You’re dismissed.”</p><p>Oksana falls forward onto her hands and drops her head between her shoulders as she tries to gather her wits. She’s got permission. She’s finally, finally, finally got permission after all her hard work. It’s almost enough to make her break down and cry.</p><p>Not wanting to linger lest Eve should change her mind, Oksana gets to her feet and brushes off her knees, shouldering her backpack and only stopping once she unlocks and opens the door to look back at her teacher. “Thank you,” she breathes, and then she’s gone.</p>
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